Popular works;

Phiios
F

THE

POPULAR WORKS

OF

JOHAM GOTTLIEB FIGHTE

TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN

BY

WILLIAM SMITH, LL. D.

WITH A MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR

.ifourtf) lE&itton, in CTtoo Volumes
VOLUME II.

LONDON:
TRUBNER & CO., LUDGATE HILL

1889.

CONTENTS OF VOLUME II.

THE CHARACTERISTICS OF THE PRESENT AGE
THE WAY TOWARDS THE BLESSED LIFE

OR

THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION
OUTLINES OF THE DOCTRINE OF KNOWLEDGE

THE CHARACTERISTICS OF THE
PRESENT AGE

CONTENTS.

LECTURE I. IDEA OF UNIVERSAL HISTORY, .... page 1
The End of the Life of Mankind on Earth is this, that
in this Life they may order all their relations with Free
dom according to Reason. This Earthly Life may be
divided into Five Principal Epochs.

IT. GENERAL DELINEATION OF THE THIRD AGE, . . page 15

To which of these Epochs does the Present Age belong?
Fundamental principle of the Third Age : Innate Com
mon Sense serves it as the measure of all Reality. General
description of its Secular and Religious system conse
quent on this principle. Its elevation of Experience as the
highest criterion its Scientific Scepticism its Artistic,
Political, Moral and Religious principles.

III. THE LIFE ACCORDING TO REASON, .... page 35

The Life according to Reason in contrast with the life
of such an Age consists in this, that the Life of the In
dividual should be dedicated to that of the Race, or to
Ideas. An experiment on the minds of the audience,
whether they can withhold their approval, admiration
and reverence from such a Life. What necessarily follows
from the successful result of such a test.

IV. THE LIFE ACCORDING TO REASON, . . . page 61

Continuation of the experiment. Description of the en
joyment of the Life in the Idea by any one who truly and
in reality lives this Life.

LECTURE V. FARTHER DELINEATION OF THE THIRD AGE, . page 69
In order thoroughly to understand an Age such as the
present, assuming it to belong to the Third Epoch, it ig
necessary to begin with a study of its Scientific Condition.
The Form of this condition. Feebleness in pursuit and
communication of Knowledge. Weariness which it seeks
to relieve by Wit, which is however inaccessible to it.

VI. SCIENTIFIC CONDITION OF THE THIRD AGE, . . page 85
Description of the Scientific Condition of the Third Age
in its Material. Ideas of Intellectual Freedom and of
Public Opinion, Superfluity of Writing and Reading.

. Literary Journals. Art of Heading.

VII. EARLIER CONDITIONS OF THE SCIENTIFIC OR LITERARY WORLD,
AND ITS IDEAL CONDITION, . . . page 105
How the Printed Letter acquired the high value it
possesses in the Third Age. How, in contrast with such
an Age, the Scientific and Literary World ought to be
constituted.

VIII. MYSTICISM AS A PHENOMENON OF THE THIRD AGE, . page 123
The Reaction of the Third Age against itself by the set
ting-up of the Incomprehensible as its highest principle.
How does this phenomenon arise, viz., the setting-up
of a specific and defined formula of the Incomprehensible ?
Definition of Mysticism, especially of Scientific Mysticism.

IX. THE ORIGIN AND LIMITS OF HISTORY, . . . page 141
The remaining characteristics and peculiarities of any Age
depend upon its Social Condition, and especially upon the
State, and are to be defined thereby. Hence, before far
ther delineation of the Third Age, it must first be ascer
tained to what stage of its development the State has at
tained in this Age. This can be done only by means of
History and therefore we must in the first place set forth
generally our view of History. Exposition of this view.

X. THE ABSOLUTE FORM OF THE STATE, . . . page 159
The Idea of the State in its Absolute Form. Three pos
sible fundamental forms of the actual State in its progress
towards perfection. Distinction between Civil and
Political Freedom.

LECTURE XL FAKTHER DEFINITION OP THE IDEA OP THE STATE, . page 175
Material of the Absolute State.

XII. HISTORICAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE STATE, . . page 191

How the State had its beginning in Central Asia, and how
it attained in Greece and Rome to Equality of .Right for
All, as its second stage of development. Union of the
whole existing Culture in ono single State in the Roman
Empire.

XIII. INFLUENCE OF CHRISTIANITY ON THE STATE, . . page 209

Destruction of the Roman Empire, and the creation of a
New State as well as an entirely New Era by means of
Christianity.

XIV. DEVELOPMENT OF THE STATE IN MODERN EUROPE, page 225

Freer development of the State after the fall of the Spiri
tual Central Power in the several States of the one and
undivided Christian Republic of Nations. This develop
ment ensured by the necessary care of each individual
State for its OAvn preservation in the general struggle for
aggrandizement. Establishment of Equality of Rights for
AIL The effort of the State to make all its Citizens, in
the highest possible degree, the instruments of its purposes,
may be taken as the fundamental political characteristic
of the Age.

XV. PUBLIC MORALITY OF THE PRESENT AGE, . . page 241
General and Public Manners of the Age.

XVI. PUBLIC RELIGION OF THE PRKSENT AGE, . . page 257
Religious characteristics of the Age.

XVII. CONCLUSION, ....... page 271

Concluding Lecture on the true purpose and possible result
of these Lectures.

Note. The reader will do well to bear in niind that the Present Age
characterized in these lectures was the great transition period of Modern
Europe, the Age of Voltaire, Rousseau, Diderot and the Encyclopaedists on
the one hand, and of Lessing, Kant, Goethe and Schiller on the other. Tu.

LECTURE I.

IDEA OF UNIVERSAL HISTORY.

WE now enter upon a series of meditations which, never
theless, at bottom contains only a single thought, con
stituting of itself one organic whole. If I could at once
communicate to you this single thought in the same clear
ness with which it must necessarily be present to my own
mind before I begin my undertaking, and with which it
must guide me in every word which I have now to address
to you, then from the first step of our progress, perfect
light would overspread the whole path which we have to
pursue together. But I am compelled gradually, and in
your own sight, to build up this single thought out of its
several parts, disengaging it at the same time from various
modifying elements : this is the necessary condition of
every communication of thought, and only by this its
fundamental law does that which in itself is but one
single thought become expanded and broken up into a
series of thoughts and meditations.

Such being the case, and especially as I am not here to
repeat what has been already known of old, but to put
forth new views of things, I must request of you at the
outset not to be surprised if our subject does not at first
manifest that clearness which, according to the laws of all
communication of thought, it can acquire only through

a

2 LECTURE I.

subsequent development ; and I must entreat you to look
for perfect light only at our conclusion, when a complete
survey of the whole shall have become possible. Never
theless it is the duty of every man who undertakes to
propound any subject whatever, to take care that each
separate thought shall assume its proper place in his
arrangement, and be produced there with all the distinct
ness which it is possible to throw around it in that place,
at least for those who can appreciate distinct language,
and are capable of following a connected discourse ; and I
shall use my most earnest efforts to fulfil this duty.

With this first and only premonition, let us now, with
out farther delay, proceed to our subject.

A philosophical picture of the Present Age is what we
have promised in these lectures. But that view only can
be called philosophical which refers back the multiform
phenomena which lie before us in experience to the unity
of one common principle, and, on the other hand, from
that one principle can deduce and completely explain those
phenomena. The mere Empiricist who should undertake
a description of the Age would seize upon some of its
most striking phenomena, just as they presented them
selves to casual observation, and recount these, without
having any assured conviction that he had understood
them all, and without being able to point out any other
connexion between them than their coexistence in one and
the same time. The Philosopher who should propose to
himself the task of such a description would, indepen
dently of all experience, seek out an Idea of the Age
(which indeed in its own form, as Idea, cannot be ap
parent in experience), and exhibit the mode in which this
Idea would reveal itself under the forms of the necessary
phenomena of the Age ; and in so doing he would distinctly
exhaust the circle of these phenomena, and bring them
forth in necessary connexion with each other, through the

IDEA OF UNIVERSAL HISTORY. 3

common Idea which lies at the bottom of them all. The
first would be the Chronicler of the Age ; the second would
have made a History of it a possible thing.

In the first place, if the Philosopher must deduce from
the unity of his presupposed principle all the possible
phenomena of experience, it is obvious that in the fulfil
ment of this purpose he does not require the aid of ex
perience ; that in following it out he proceeds merely as a
Philosopher, confining himself strictly within the limits
which that character imposes upon him, paying no respect
whatever to experience, and thus absolutely a priori, as
this method is termed in scientific phraseology ; and in
respect to our own subject it is clear that he must be able
a priori to describe Time as a whole, and all its possible
Epochs. It is an entirely different question whether the
present time be actually characterized by the phenomena
that are deduced from the principle which he may lay down,
and thus whether the Age so pictured by the speaker be
really the Present Age, should he maintain such a posi
tion, as we, for example, shall maintain it. On this part
of the subject every man must consult for himself the
experience of his life, and compare it with the history of
the Past, as well as with his anticipations of the Future ;
for here the business of the Philosopher is at an end, and
that of the Observer of the world and of men begins.
We, for our part, intend to be no more than philosophers
in this place, and have bound ourselves to nothing more ;
and thus the final judgment, so soon as you are in a posi
tion to pass such a judgment, must devolve upon you. It
is now our business, in the first place, strictly to settle and
define our theme.

, Thus then : Every particular Epoch of Time, as we have

; already -hinted above, is the fundamental Idea of a parti-

Qular Age. These Epochs and fundamental Ideas of

particular Ages, however, can only be thoroughly under-

\ stood by and through each other, and by means of their

4 LECTURE I.

relation to Universal Time. Hence it is clear that the
Philosopher, in order to be able rightly to characterize any
individual Age and, if he will, his own must first have
understood a priori and thoroughly penetrated into the
signification of Universal Time and all its possible Epochs.

This comprehension of Universal Time, like all philoso
phical comprehension, again presupposes a fundamental
Idea of Time ; an Idea of a fore-ordered, although only
gradually unfolding, accomplishment of Time, in which
each successive period is determined by the preceding ;
or, to express this more shortly and in more common
phraseology, it presupposes a World-plan, which, in its
primitive unity, may be clearly comprehended, and from
which may be correctly deduced all the great Epochs of
human life on Earth, so that they may be distinctly under
stood both in their origin, and in their connexion with
each other. The former, the World-plan, is the funda
mental Idea of the entire life of Man on Earth ; the latter,
the chief Epochs of this life, are the fundamental Ideas
of particular Ages of which we have spoken, from which
again the phenomena of these Ages are to be deduced.

We have thus, in the first place, a fundamental Idea of
the entire life of Man, dividing itself into different Epochs,
which can only be understood by and through each other;
each of which Epochs is again the fundamental Idea of a
particular Age, and is revealed in manifold phenomena
therein.

The life of Mankind on this Earth stands here in place
yof the One Universal Life, and Earthly Time in place of
Universal Time ; such are the limits within which we
are confined by the proposed popular character of our dis
courses, since it is impossible to speak at once profoundly
and popularly of the Heavenly and Eternal. Here, I say,
and in these discourses only, shall this be so ; for, strictly
speaking, and in the higher flights of speculation, Human
Life on Earth, and Earthly Time itself, are but necessary

IDEA OF UNIVERSAL HISTORY. 5

Epochs of the ONE TIME and of the ONE ETERNAL LIFE ;
and this Earthly Life with all its subordinate divisions
may be deduced from the fundamental Idea of the ETER
NAL LIFE already accessible to us here below. It is our
present voluntary limitation alone which forbids us to
undertake this strictly demonstrable deduction, and per
mits us here only to declare the fundamental Idea of the
Earthly Life, requesting every hearer to bring this Idea
to the test of his own sense of truth, and, if he can, to
approve it thereby. Life of MANKIND on Earth, we have
said, and Epochs of this Life. We speak here only of the
progressive Life of the Race, not of the Individual, which
last in all these discourses shall remain untouched, and
I beg of you never to lose sight of this our proper point
of view.

The Idea of a World-Plan is thus implied in our inquiry,
which, however, I am not at this time to deduce from the
fundamental Idea indicated above, but only to point out.
I say therefore, and so lay the foundation of our rising
edifice, the End of the Life of Mankind on EartJi is this,
that in this Life they may order all their relations with
FREEDOM according to REASON.

With FREEDOM, I have said ; their own Freedom,
the Freedom of Mankind in their collective capacity, as
a Eace : and this Freedom is the_st^accessory condition
of our fundamental principle which I intend at present to
pursue, leaving the other conditions, which may likewise
need explanation, to the subsequent lectures. This Free
dom becomes apparent in the collective consciousness of
the Race, and it appears there as the proper and peculiar
Freedom of the Race ; as a true and real fact ; the
product of the Race during its Life and proceeding from
its Life, so that the absolute existence of the Race itself
is necessarily implied in the existence of the fact and pro
duct thus attributed to it. (If a certain person has done
something, it is unquestionably implied in that fact that

6 LECTURE I.

the person has been in existence prior to the deed, in
order that he might form the resolution so to act ; and
also during the accomplishment of the deed, in order that
he might carry his previous resolution into effect ; and
every one might justly accept the proof of non-existence at
a particular time, as equivalent to the proof of non-activity
at the same time. In the same way, if Mankind, as a
Race, has done something, and appeared as the actor in
such deed, this act must necessarily imply the existence
of the Race at a time when the act had not yet been ac
complished.)

As an immediate consequence of this remark, the Life
of Mankind on Earth divides itself, according to the fun
damental Idea which we have laid down, into two principal
Epojihg^or Ages : the one in which the Race exists and
lives without as yet having ordered its relations with FREE
DOM according to REASON ; and the other in which this
voluntary and reasonable arrangement is brought about.

To begin our farther inquiry with the first Epoch ; it
does not follow, because the Race has not yet, by its own
free act, ordered its relations according to Reason, that
therefore these relations are not ordered by Reason ; and
hence the one assertion is by no means to be confounded
Avith the other. It is possible that Reason of itself, by its
own power, and without the cooperation of human Free
dom, may have determined and ordered the relations of
Mankind. And so it is in reality. Reason is the FIRST LAW
of the Life of a Race of Men, as of all Spiritual Life ; and
in this souse and in no other shall the word Reason bo
used in these lectures^JWithout the living activity of this
law a Race of Men could never have come into existence ;
or, even if it could be supposed to have attained to being,
it could not, without this activity, maintain its existence
for a single moment. Hence, where Reason cannot as yet
work by Freedom, as in the first Epoch, it acts as a law or
power of Nature ; and thus may be present in conscious-

IDEA OF UNIVERSAL HISTORY. 7

ness and active there, only without insight into the
grounds of its activity ; or, in other words, may exist as
mere feeling, for so we call consciousness without insight.

In short, to express this in common language : Reason
acts as blind Instinct, where it cannot as yet act through
Free Will. It acts thus in the first Epoch of the Life of
Mankind on Earth ; and this first Epoch is thereby more
closely characterized and more strictly defined.

By means of this stricter definition of the first Epoch,
we are also enabled, by contrast, more strictly to define
the second. Instinct is blind ; a consciousness without
insight. .Freedom, as the opposite of Instinct, is thus
seeing, and clearly conscious of the grounds of its activity.
But the sole ground of this free activity is Reason;
Freedom is thus conscious of Reason, of which Instinct
was unconscious. Hence, between the dominion of Reason
through mere Instinct, and the dominion of the same
Reason through Freedom, there arises an intermediate
condition, the Consciousness or Knowledge of Reason.

But further : Instinct as a blind impulse excludes
Knowledge ; hence the birth of Knowledge presupposes a
liberation from the compulsive power of Instinct as already
accomplished ; and thus between the dominion of Reason
as Instinct and that of Reason as Knowledge, there is
interposed a third condition, that of Liberation from
Reason as Instinct.

But how could humanity free itself, or even wish to free
itself, from that Instinct which is the law of its existence,
and rules it with beloved and unobtrusive power? or how
could the one Reason which while it speaks in Instinct, is
likewise active in the impulse towards Freedom, how
could this same Reason come into conflict and opposition
with itself in human life ? Clearly not directly ; and hence
a new medium must intervene between the dominion of
Reason as Instinct, and the impulse to cast off that do
minion. This medium arises in the following way : the

8 LECTURE I.

results of Season as Instinct are seized upon by the more
powerful individuals of the Race ; in whom, on this very
account, that Instinct speaks in its loudest and fullest
tones, as the natural but precipitate desire to elevate the
whole race to the level of their own greatness, or rather to
put themselves in the room and place of the Race ; and
by them it is changed into an external ruling Authority,
upheld through outward constraint ; and then among other
men Reason awakes in another form as the impulse to
wards Personal Freedom, which, although it never opposes
the mild rule of the inward Instinct which it loves, yet
rises in rebellion against the pressure of a foreign Instinct
which has usurped its rights ; and in this awakening it
breaks the chains, not of Reason as Instinct itself, but
of the Instinct of foreign natures clothed in the garb of
external power. And thus the change of the individual
Instinct into a compulsive Authority becomes the medium
between the dominion of Reason as Instinct and the lib
eration from that dominion.

And finally, to complete this enumeration of the neces
sary divisions and Epochs of the Earthly Life of our Race :
We have said that through liberation from the dominion
of Reason as Instinct, the Knowledge of Reason becomes
possible. By the laws of this Knowledge, all the relations
of Mankind must be ordered and directed

^act. But it is obvious that mere cognizance of the law,
which nevertheless is all that Knowledge of itself can give
us, is not sufficient for the attainment of this purpose, but
that there is also needed a peculiar knowledge of action,
which can only be thoroughly acquired by practice, in a
word, Art. This Art of ordering the whole relations of
Mankind according to that Reason which has been already
consciously apprehended, (for in this higher sense we shall
always use the word Art when we employ it without ex
planatory remark) this Art must be universally applied
to all the relations of Mankind, and realized therein,

IDEA OF UNIVERSAL HISTORY.

until the Kace become a perfect image of its ej
arfihet.ypp. \f\ "Reason ; and then shall the purpose of this
Earthly Life be attained, its end become apparent, and
Mankind enter upon the higher spheres of Eternity.

Thus have we endeavoured to pre-figure the whole
Earthly Life of Man by a comprehension of its purpose ;
to perceive why our Race had to begin its Existence here,
and by this means to describe the whole present Life of
humankind : this is what we wished to do, it was our first
task. There are, according to this view, Five Principal
Epochs of Earthly Life, each of which, although taking its
rise in the life of the individual, must yet, in order to
become an Epoch in the Life of the Race, gradually lay
hold of and interpenetrate all Men ; and to that end must
endure throughout long periods of time, so that the great
Whole of Life is spread out into Ages, which sometimes seem
to cross, sometimes to run parallel with each other : 1st,
The Epoch of the unlimited dominion of Reason as Instinct :
the State of Innocence of the Human Race. 2nd, The
Epoch in which Reason as Instinct is changed into an ex
ternal ruling Authority; the Age of positive Systems of
life and doctrine, which never go back to their ultimate
foundations, and hence have no power to convince but on
the contrary merely desire to compel, and which demand
blind faith and unconditional obedience : the State of pro
gressive Sin. 3rd, The Epoch of Liberation, directly from
the external ruling Authority indirectly from the power
of Reason as Instinct, and generally from Reason in any
form; the Age of absolute indifference towards all truth,
and of "elitire^anT^nrestfained licentiousness : the State
of complefed f ~~S infuTness. 4>th, The Epoch of Reason as
Knowledge ; the Age in which Truth ic look

and loved before all other things : the State of
progressive Justification. 5th, The Epoch of Reason as
Art ; the Age in which Humanity with more sure and
unerring hand builds itself up into a fitting image and

I

10 LECTURE I.

representative of Reason : the State of completed Justifi
cation and Sanctification. Thus, the whole progress which,
upon this view, Humanity makes here below, is only a
retrogression to the point on which it stood at first, and has
nothing in view save that return to its original condition.
But Humanity must make this journey on its own feet ; by
its own strength it must bring itself back to that state in
which it was once before without its own cooperation, and
which, for that very purpose, it must first of all leave.
If Humanity could not of itself re-create its own true
being, then would it possess no real Life ; and then were
there indeed no real Life at all, but all things would re
main dead, rigid, immoveable. In Paradise, to use a
well-known picture, in the Paradise of innocence and
well-being, without knowledge, without labour, without art,
Humanity awakes to life. Scarcely has it gathered courage
to venture upon independent existence when the Angel
comes with the fiery sword of compulsion to good and
drives it forth from the seat of its innocence and its peace.
Fugitive and irresolute it wanders through the empty waste,
scarcely daring to plant its foot firmly anywhere lest the
ground should sink beneath it. Grown bolder by necessity,
it settles in some poor corner, and in the sweat of its
brow roots out the thorns and thistles of barbarism from
the soil on which it would rear the beloved fruit of know
ledge. Enjoyment opens its eyes and strengthens its
hands, and it builds a Paradise for itself after the image
of that which it has lost ; the tree of Life arises ; it
stretches forth its hand to the fruit, and eats, and lives in
Immortality.

This is the delineation of Earthly Life as a whole and in
all its various Epochs, which is necessary for our present
purpose. As surely as our present Age is a part of this
Earthly Life, which no one can doubt ; and further, as
surely as there are no other possible Epochs of the Earthly
Life but the five which we have indicated, so surely

IDEA OF UNIVERSAL HISTORY. ]1

does our Present Age belong to one of these. It shall be
my business to point out, according to my knowledge and
experience of the world, to which of these five it belongs,
and to unfold the necessary phenomena in which the
principles above stated must manifest themselves ; and it
will te yours to consider and observe whether you have not
encountered these phenomena during your whole life both
internal and external, and do not still encounter them ;
and this shall be the business of our future lectures.

The Present Age considered as a whole, I mean ; for
since, as I have remarked above, different Ages may, in
perfect accordance with their spiritual principle, coexist in
one and the same chronological Time, and even cross or run
parallel to each other in different individuals, so it may
be anticipated that such will be the case in our own Age,
and hence that our application of the a priori principle to
the present condition of the world and of humanity may
not embrace all men alive in the present Time, but only
those who are truly products of the Age and in whom it
most completely reveals itself. One may be behind his
Age, because in the course of his culture he has not come
into contact with a sufficiently extensive mass of his fellow-
men, but has been trained in some narrow circle which is
only a remnant of a former Time. Another may be in
advance of his Age, and bear in his breast the germs of a
future Time, while that which has become old to him still
rules around him in true, actual, present and efficient
power. Finally, Science raises itself above all Ages
anji all Times, embracing and apprehending the ONE
UNCHANGING TIME as the higher source of all Ages
and Epochs, and grasping that vast idea in its free, unboun
ded comprehension. None of these three can be included
in the picture of any present Age.

The object of our lectures in this course, during the
present winter, is now strictly defined, and, as it seems to
me, clearly enough set forth and announced ; and such

12 LKCTURE I.

was tlie purpose of to-day s address, Allow me, further, a
few words on the external form of these discourses.

Whatever maybe our judgment upon the Present Age,
and in whatever Epoch we may feel ourselves compelled to
place it, you are not to expect here either the tone of lamen
tation or of satire, particularly of a personal description.
Not of lamentation : for it is the sweetest reward of
Philosophy that, looking upon all things in their mutual
dependence, and upon nothing as isolated and alone, she

I finds all to be necessary and therefore good, and accepts
that which is, as it is, because it is subservient to a higher
end. Besides, it is unmanly to waste in lamentation over
existing evil the time which would be more wisely applied
in striving, so far as in us lies, to create the Good and the
Beautiful. Not of satire : an infirmity which affects the
whole race, is no proper object for the scorn of an individual
who belongs to that race, and who, before he could depict it,
must himself have known it and cast it off. But individuals
disappear altogether from the view of the philosopher, and
are lost in the one great commonwealth. His thought em
braces all objects in a clear and consequential light, which
they can never attain amid the endless fluctuations of reali
ty ; hence it does not concern itself with individuals and,
never descending to portraits, dwells in the higher sphere of
idealized conception. As to the advantages derivable from
considerations of this kind, it will be better to leave you
to judge for yourselves after you have gone through some
considerable portion of them, than to say much in praise of
them beforehand. No one is further than the philosopher
from the vain desire that his Age should be impelled
forward to some obvious extent through his exertions.
Every one, indeed, to whom God has given strength and
opportunity, should exert all his powers for this end, were
it only for his own sake, and in order to maintain the place
which has been assigned to him in the ever-flowing current
of ftYistfinp.fi. For the rest, Time rolls on in the steadfast

IDEA OF UNIVERSAL HISTORY. 13

course marked out for it from eternity, and individual effort
can neither hasten nor retard its progress. Only the co
operation of all, and especially of the indwelling Eternal
SpiriLflLAges and of Worlds, may promote it.

As to my present labours, it will be to me a nattering
reward, if a cultivated and intelligent audience shall pass a
few hours of this half year in an agreeable and worthy man
ner, raised above the business and pleasures of every-day
life into a freer and purer region, a more spiritual atmos
phere. Above all, should it happen that upon some young
and powerful mind a spark may fall which shall dwell and
live there, and perhaps develop my feeble thoughts into
better and more perfect results, and kindle a vigorous de
termination to realize them, then would my reward be
complete.

In this spirit I have been induced to invite you to such
lectures as the present ; in this spirit I now take my leave
of you, and leave it to your own judgment whether you
desire to proceed further in my company.

(15 )

LECTURE II.

GENERAL DELINEATION OP THE THIRD AGE.

IN the first place, let him who desires to be met with the
same hoDest purpose which I presume leads him here, cast
back a kindly glance upon our former lecture. It appears
that many of this assembly have not been able altogether to
follow the greater part of that which I said at the begin
ning of my previous address. In so far as this may have
any other cause than want of acquaintance with the style,
voice, and manner of the lecturer, and the novelty of the
whole situation, all of which may be overcome by a few
minutes custom, allow me, as some consolation should
the like happen again, to add the following : That which
some of my hearers have been unable thoroughly to
comprehend, does not so much belong to the subject itself,
as to the practice of the art which we now employ, the
art of philosophizing. It is serviceable to us in finding
an introduction and commencement in the circle of other
knowledge from which to set forth our subject, and in
strictly defining our point of separation from this system of
knowledge ; it is a part of the account which we teachers
and masters must render of our manner of working. Every
other art, as poetry, music, painting, may be practised
without the process showing forth the rules according to
which it is conducted ; but in the self-cognizant art of

16 LECTURE II.

the philosopher no step can be taken without declaring
the grounds upon which it proceeds ; and in it theory and
practice go hand in hand. It was necessary for me to
proceed in this way on the former occasion, and in similar
circumstances I must proceed in the same way again. But
if any one choose to admit beforehand, and without further
proof, that I proceed correctly and according to the rules
of my art, and will calmly and candidly test, by his own
natural sense of truth, that which I have laid down as
the foundation of the edifice, such an one will lose nothing
essential by thus missing the scientific explanation ; and it
will be perfectly sufficient for our present purpose if, out
of that which we laid down in our former lecture, he has
thoroughly understood and accepted the following proposi
tions, and has retained them in his memory, so that he may
connect with them what we have further to lay before you.
He must, I say, thoroughly understand, accept, and keep
in mind the following : The life of the Human Race does
not depend upon blind chance ; nor is it, as is often super
ficially pretended, everywhere alike, so that it has always
been as it is now and will always so remain ; but it proceeds
and moves onward according tp_a settled plan which must
necessarily be fulfilled, and therefore shall certainly be ful
filled. This plan is that the Kace shall in this Life and
with freedom mould and cultivate itself into a pure and ex
press Image of Reason. The whole Life of Man is divided
I am now supposing that the strict derivation of this has
not been thoroughly understood or has been forgotten, the
whole Life of Man is divided intone principal Epochs :
that in which Reason governs in the form of blind Instinct;
that in which this Instinct is changed into an external
ruling Authority ; that in which the dominion of this Au
thority, and with it that of Reason itself, is overthrown ;
that in which Reason and its laws are understood with
clear consciousness ; and finally, that in which all the re
lations of the Race shall be directed and ordered by perfect

GENERAL DELINEATION OF THE THIRD AGE. 17

Art and perfect Freedom according to Reason : and, in order
to impress these different Epochs firmly upon your memory
by means of a sensuous representation, we made use of the
universally known picture of Paradise. Further, he must
understand that the Present Age, to which especially our
present purpose refers, must fall within one or other of these
five Epochs ; that we have now to set forth the fundamental
Idea of this Epoch, distinguishing it from the other four,
which, except for the purposes of illustrating our own, we
may here lay out of view ; and that from this fundamental
Idea we must deduce the peculiar phenomena of the Age
as its necessary consequences. At this point our second
lecture begins.

And so let us set forth with declaring at what point of
the whole Earthly life of the Race we place our Present
Age. I, for my part, hold that the Present Age stands
precisely in the middle of Earthly Time ; and as we may
characterize the two first Epochs of our scheme (in which
Reason rules first directly as Instinct, and then indirectly
as Instinct through Authority) as the one Epoch of the
dominion of blind or unconscious Reason; and in like
manner the two last Epochs in our scheme (in which Reason
first appears as Knowledge,and then, by means of Art, enters
upon the government of Life) as the one Epoch of the do
minion of seeing or conscious Reason ; sjo the Present^Age
unites the ends of two essentially different

Wojld of Darkness and that of Light, the World of Con
straint and that of Freedom, without itself belonging to
either of them. In other words, the Present Age, accord
ing to my view of it, stands in that Epoch which in my
former lecturel named the THIRD, and which I characterized
as the Epoch of Liberation directly from the external ruling
Authority, indirectly from the power of Reason as Instinct,
and generally from Reason in any form, ; the Age of abso
lute indifference towards all truth, and of entire and un
restrained licentiousness: the State of completed Sinfulncss.

18 LECTURE II.

Our Age stands, I think, in this Epoch, taken with the
limitations which I have already laid down, namely, that
I do not here include all men now living in our time, but
only those who are truly products of the Age, and in whom
it most completely reveals itself.

Let this then be now said, and said once for all. It was
needful that I should say this once, for this my declared
opinion is the only ground why I select for investigation
that Epoch which I now take up, leaving the other four out
of view ; otherwise I must have entered upon all five, or
at least selected some other one for consideration. But I
can here only announce this opinion, not prove it. The
proof lies out of the domain of the philosopher, and be
longs to that of the observer of the world and of men ;
and this character I do not wish to assume here. I have
said this now once for all. I now proceed calmly and with
out restriction, as beseems a philosopher, to that higher
principle which we have already laid down as the funda
mental principle of any Age whatsoever, not as something of
our own devising, but as deduced from the general con
ception of an Earthly Life ; and from thence infer whatever
may justly be inferred as to the form and phenomena of a
life founded upon this principle. Whether the life which
now exists before your eyes resemble that which I, guided
only by the laws of syllogistic reasoning, shall deduce a
priori from that principle, this inquiry, as I have already
said, belongs to you ; you must resolve it upon your own
responsibility, and whatever you may or may not say on the
subject, I shall have no part in it. If, according to your
judgment, I have hit the mark, it is well ; if not, we shall
at least have philosophized ; and philosophized, if not upon
the present, yet upon some other possible and necessary
Age ; and so our labour not be wholly lost.

The Present Age, I have said, without further explana
tion; and it is sufficient at the outset if, without any stricter
definition, these words shall be understood to mean the time

GENERAL DELINEATION OF THE THIRD AGE. 19

in which we, who now live and think and speak to each
other, do actually exist and live. It is "by no means my
purpose at present to mark out the centuries, or even cycles,
which may have elapsed since that which I call the Present
Age first appeared in the world. Obviously, an Age can
only be judged and understood by observation of those
nations who stand at the head of the civilization of their
time:but as civilization has wandered from people to people,
so with this civilization an Age too may have wandered
from people to people, remaining unchangeably one and
the same in principle amid all variety of climate and^ of
soil; and so likewise, in virtue of the purpose of uniting
all nations into one great commonwealth, may the Age be
arrested and detained on the stage during a considerable
period of chronological Time, and thus, as it were, the
Time-current be compelled to a pause. Especially may
this be the case with an Age like that which we have to
describe, throughout which adverse worlds meet and
struggle with each other, slowly striving to attain an
equilibrium, and thereby to secure the peaceful extinction
of the elder time. But, it is only after we have acquired
a more intimate knowledge of the principle of the Age,
and have learned at the same time how history is to be
questioned and what we have to seek from her, that it
will be useful or proper for us to adduce from the history
of the actual world whatever may be necessary for our
purpose and may serve to guard us from error. Not
whether our words, had they been uttered centuries ago,
would then have depicted reality, nor whether they shall
picture it forth after centuries have passed away, but
only whether they now represent it truly, is the question
which is proposed for your final decision.
So much by way of preface_tg_pur firsl
the principle cjKe3geT :::: noVto the solution of this pro
blem. I have laid down this principle as Liberation from
the compulsion of the blind Authority exercised by Reason as

20 LECTURE II.

Instinct; Liberation being understood to mean the state in
which the Race gradually works out its own Freedom, now
in this, now in that individual, now from this, now from
that object, with respect to which Authority has hitherto
held it in chains ; not that in which it already is free, but
at most only that in which those who stand at the head of
the Age, and seek to guide, direct, and elevate the others,
are, or imagine themselves to be, free. The instrument of
this liberation from Authority is Understanding ; for the
characteristic of Instinct as opposed to Understanding con
sists in this, that it is blind ; and the characteristic of
Authority, by means of which Instinct has governed in the
preceding Age,is this, that it demands unquestioning faith
and obedience. Hence the fundamental maxim of those
who stand at the head of this Age, and therefore the prin
ciple of the Age, is this, to accept nothing as really exist
ing or obligatory but that which they can understand and
clearly comprehend.

With regard to this fundamental principle, as we have
now declared and adopted it without further definition or
limitation, this third Age is similar to that which is to
folio wit, the fourth, or Age of Reason as Knowledge;
and by virtue of this similarity prepares the way for it.
Before the tribunal of Knowledge, too, nothing is accepted
but the Conceivable. Only in the application of the prin
ciple there is this difference between the two Ages, that
the third, which we shall shortly name that of Empty
Freedom, makes its fixed and already acquired concep
tion the measure of existence ; while the fourth that of
Knowledge on the contrary, makes existence the measure,
not of its acquired, but of its desiderated belief. To the
former there is nothing but what it already comprehends :
the latter strives to comprehend, and does comprehend, all
that is. The latter the Age of Knowledge penetrates
to all things without exception ; to the Conceivable,
and even to that which still remains absolutely Un-

GENERAL DELINEATION OF THE THIRD AGE. 21

conceivable accepting it as Unconceivable : to the first,
the Conceivable, so as thereby to order the relations
of the Kace ; to the second, the Unconceivable, in order
to assure itself that all the Conceivable is exhausted, and
that it is now in possession of the limits of the Conceiv
able. The former the Age of Empty Freedom does not
know that man must first through labour, industry, and
art, learn how to know ; but it has a certain fixed standard
for all conceptions, and an established Common Sense of
Mankind always ready and at hand, innate, and ever pre
sent without trouble on its part ; and those conceptions
and this Common Sense are to it the measure of the
efficient and the real. It has this great advantage over
the Age of Knowledge, that it knows all things without
having learned anything; and can pass judgment upon
whatever comes before it at once and without hesitation,
without needing any preliminary enquiry : Whatever
I do not immediately comprehend by the conceptions
which already dwell within me, is nothing, says Empty
Freedom : Whatever I do not comprehend through the
Absolute, Self-comprehensive Idea, is nothing/ says
Knowledge.

You perceive that this Age is based upon an already
present conception, an innate Common Sense, which pro
nounces irrevocably upon its whole system of knowledge and
belief; and if we could thoroughly analyze this inborn con
ception or sense, which is thus to it the root of everything
else, we should then, undoubtedly, be able to take in the
whole system of the beliefs of the Age at a single glance,
perceive the inmost spirit beneath all its outward wrappings,
and bring it forth to view. Let it be now our task to ac
quire this knowledge ; and for this purpose I now invite
you to the comprehension of a deep-lying proposition.

This namely : The third Age throws off the yoke of
Reason as Instinct ruling through the imposition of outward
Authority. This Reason as Instinct, however, as we have

22 LECTURE II.

already remarked, embraces only the relations and life of the
Race as such, not the life of the Individual. In the latter
the natural impulse of self-preservation and personal well-
being alone prevails. Hence an Age which has thrown
off Reason as Instinct, without accepting Reason in any
other form in its stead, has absolutely nothing remaining
except the life of the Individual, and whatever is connected
with or related to that. Let us further explain this weighty
conclusion, which is of essential importance to our future
inquiries.

We have said that Reason as Instinct, arid generally
Reason in any form, embraces only the life and relations of
the Race. To wit, and this is a principle the proof of
which cannot be brought forward here, but which is pro
duced only as an axiom borrowed from the higher philo
sophy where the strict proof of it may be found, there is
but ONE existing LIFE, even in reference to the subject; i.e.
there is everywhere but ONE animating power, ONE living
Reason ; not, as we are accustomed to hear the unity of
Reason asserted and admitted, that Reason is the one
homogeneous and self-accordant faculty and property of
reasonable beings, who do nevertheless exist already upon
their own account, and to whose being this property of
Reason is only superadded as a foreign ingredient, without
which they might, at any rate, still have been ; but, that
Reason is the only possible independent and self-sustaining
Existence and Life, of which all that seems to us to exist
and live is but a modification, definition, variety, and form.
To you this principle is not altogether new, for it was al
ready contained in the definition of Reason which I laid
before you in our first lecture, to which I then particularly
directed your attention and besought you to fix it in your
mind. And now to explain this principle somewhat further,
so that I may at least make it historically clear to you,
although I cannot prove it in this place: it is the greatest
error, and the true ground of all the other errors which

GENERAL DELINEATION OF THE THIRD AGE. 23

make this Age their sport, that each individual imagines that
he can exist, live, think, and act for himself, and believes
that he himself is the thinking principle of his thoughts ; I
whereas in truth he is but a single ray of the ONE universal f
and necessary Thought. I shall not by any means be sur
prised if it should appear to you that in making this asser
tion I have uttered a monstrous paradox. I know too well
that such an opinion must arise, because we can only speak
of the present Age to the present Age ; and, if I do not
err, the fundamental character of the Age consists in this,
that it knows not the principle of which I have spoken, or
holds it, when announced, in the highest degree incredible
and absurd. This principle is, however, absolutely incon
trovertible upon any other ground than that of the mere
feeling of personality ; the existence of which as a fact of
consciousness we by no means deny, since we ourselves ex
perience it as well as others. But we do most earnestly
deny the validity of this feeling when the question respects
truth and real existence, in the firm conviction that such
questions must be decided upon quite other grounds than
the deceptive revelations of consciousness ; and we are per
fectly able, in the proper time and place, to justify this our
denial upon decisive grounds. Here, however, we can only
announce this principle, and historically communicate it to
you ; and it is necessary to do this, because only by means
of it can we separate ourselves from the Age and rise supe
rior to it ; and no one can truly characterize the Age, or
comprehend its characteristics, who does not so raise himself
above it. Hence I must entreat you to accept this principle
in the meantime upon trust, until I shall be able to lead
you, in a popular way, at least to a tacit admission of it,
which I shall do in my next lecture.

It is only by and to mere Earthly and Finite perception,
that this one and homogeneous Life of Reason is broken up
and divided into separate individual persons ; the ground
of which division, as well as its form and mode, are to be

24 LECTURE II.

found in the higher philosophy ; which individual per
sons exist and are in no other way than in this Earthly and
Finite perception, and by means of it; not at all in them
selves, or independent of Earthly and Finite perception.
You see here the origin of the division of the One Life of
Reason into individual life, and the ground of the necessity
which there is, for all who have not raised themselves by
Knowledge above mere Earthly and Finite perception, to
continue in the faith of this personal existence.

(In order that this principle may not be misunderstood
in a sense entirely opposed to my meaning, I add the follow
ing ; but merely in passing, and without any connexion
with my present subject : The Earthly and Finite percep
tion, as the foundation and scaffolding of the Eternal Life,
as well as all that is contained therein, and therefore, all
the individual persons into whom the One Reason is divided
by this Earthly and Finite perception, endures, at least in
memory, in the Eternal Life itself. Hence, far from any
thing arising out of my principle against the continuation of
personal existence, this principle furnishes the only sufficient
proof of it. And to express it briefly and distinctly
persons endure through Eternity as they exist now, i.e. as
the necessary phenomena of Earthly and Finite perception ;
but in all Eternity they can never become, what they
never were nor are, independent beings.)

After this short digression, let us return to our task.
The One and homogeneous Life of Reason of which we
have spoken, dividing itself to mere Earthly and Finite
perception into different individual lives, and hence as
suming the form of the collective life of a Race, is, as above
stated, founded at first upon Reason as Instinct, and as such
regulated by its own essential law ; and this continues un
til Knowledge steps in and clearly comprehends this law in
all its varied aspects, demonstrates and establishes it, and so
makes it evident to all men; and after Knowledge has done
its part, then by Art is it built up into Reality. In this

GENERAL DELINEATION OF THE THIRD AGE. 25

fundamental law lie all those higher Ideas which belong to
the One Life, or to the form which the One Life here as
sumes, viz. the Kace: which Ideas altogether transcend
Individuality, and indeed radically subvert it. Where this
fundamental law does not prevail under one form or another,
there can Humanity never attain to the One Life, to the
Race; and hence nothing remains but Individuality as the
onlyactual and efficient power. An Age which has set itself
free from Reason as^ Instinct, the first principle of the Life
of the Race, and does not yet possess Knowledge, the second
principle of that Life, must find itself in this position :
with nothing remaining iu.it but mere naked Individuality.
The Race, which alone possesses real existence, is here
changed into a mere empty abstraction which has no true
life, except in the artificial conception of some individual
founded only on the strength of his own imaginings ; and
there is no other Whole, and indeed no other conceivable
Whole, except a patchwork of individual parts, possessing
no essential and organic Unity.

This individual and personal life, which is thus all that
remains in such an Age, is governed by the impulse towards
self-preservation and personal well-being; and Nature goes
no further in man than this impulse. She bestows upon
the animals a special instinct to guide them to the means
of their preservation and well-being, but she sends forth
man almost wholly uninstructed on this point, and refers
him for guidance to his understanding and his experience;
and therefore it could not fail that this latter should in the
course of time, during the first two Epochs, assume a cul
tivated form, and gradually become an established art;
the art, namely, of promoting to the utmost self-preserva
tion and personal well-being. This form of Reason, this
standard of conceptions, the results, present in the general
consciousness of the Time, of the art of Being and "Well-
Being, is what the third Age encounters at its advent ;
this is the universal and natural Common Sense, which it

d

26 LECTURE II.

receives without labour or toil of its own, as its hereditary
patrimony ; which is born with it like its hunger and its
thirst, and which it now applies as the undoubted measure
of all existence and all worth.

Our first problem is solved ; the significance of the
Third Epoch is, as we promised that it should be, dragged
forth from its concealment and brought forward into open
day, and we cannot now fail in likewise reproducing its
systems of faith and practice with as much accuracy and
sequence as it could itself exhibit in their construction. In
the first place, the fundamental maxim of the Age, as
already announced, is now better defined, and it is clear
that from its asserted principle What I do not compre
hend, that w not, there must necessarily follow this other :

Now I comprehend nothing whatever except that which
pertains to my own personal existence and well-being ;
hence there is nothing more than this, and the whole world
exists for nothing else than this, .that I should be, and
be happy. Whatever I do not comprehend as bearing
upon this object, is not, does not concern me.

This mode of thought is either operative only in a practi
cal way, as the concealed and unconscious, but nevertheless
true and real, motive of the ordinary doings of the Age,
or it elevates itself to theory. So long as it only as
sumes the first form, it cannot easily be laid hold of and
compelled to avow its real nature, but generally retains a
sufficient number of lurking holes and ways of escape ; it
has not yet become a specific Epoch, but is only in the early
stages of its development. So soon, however, as, havino-
become theory, it understands itself, admits its own proper
significance, and loves, approves, and takes pride in itself,
and indeed accounts itself the highest and only truth, then
does it assume the distinct Epochal character, reveal itself
in all the phenomena of the Age, and may now be tho
roughly comprehended by its own admissions. We prefer
to approach the subject at its clearest point, and shall

GENERAL DELINEATION OF THE THIED AGE. 27

therefore begin our description of the Third Age at its
latter stage when its mode of thought has elevated itself >
to theory.

We have already remarked that Nature has not bestowed
upon man, as it has upon animals, a particular instinct
whereby he may be led to the means of his preservation
and well-being. This being the case, and also because
nothing can be learned upon this subject from a priori
Ideas, which relate only to the One and Everlasting Life of
the Race, it follows, that in this province nothing remains
for man but to try, or to let others try at their own proper
cost, what is good for him and what evil, and to note the
result for his guidance at a future time. Hence it is quite
natural and necessary that an Age whose whole theory of the
world is exhausted in the means of personal existence, should
value Experience as the only possible source of Knowledge,
since those very means, which are all that such an Age can
or will recognise, are only to be recognised through Experi
ence. In mere Experience, from which however we must
carefully distinguish scientific Observation and Experiment,
with which an a priori Idea is always associated, that,
namely, of the object of inquiry, in mere Experience there
is contained nothing but the means of physical preservation,
and on the other hand these means can only be recognised
by Experience: hence it is Experience alone from which
this Age derives its views of the world; and the world again,
as seen by it, points to Experience as its sole original ;
and thus they react upon each other with the same result.
Such an Age is thus obliged to deny and deride all the
knowledge which we possess a priori and independent of
Experience, and the assertion that from knowledge itself,
without intermixture of any sensuous element, new know
ledge may originate and flow forth. Did it possess Ideas of
a higher world and its order, then it would easily understand
that these are founded on no Experience whatever, since they
transcend all Experience ; or if, on the other hand, it had

28 LECTURE II.

but the fortune to possess a nature wholly animal, it would
then not be obliged laboriously to seek, by means of Experi
ence, its knowledge of the world, that is, the means of its
physical preservation, but it would possess these a priori
in the animal instinct ; since in fact the ox grazing on the
meadow leaves untouched those grasses which are hurtful to
his nature, without ever having tasted them and discovered
by experience their pernicious qualities ; and in like man
ner takes to those which are healthful to him without
previous trial ; and consequently, if we were to ascribe
knowledge to him, possesses a knowledge absolutely a priori
and independent of all Experience. Only in the middle
state between humanity and animalism is Experience,
that wherein our race ranks below the animals, and in its
superiority to which the meanest insect may be an object
of envy to man, if destitute of a priori conceptions of
an Eternal World, only in this middle state, I say, is
Experience elevated to be the crown and standard of hu
manity, and such an Age steps boldly forward and asks,
Might it but know then how any knowledge whatever is
possible except by Experience? as if by this question, in
deed, every one would be frightened, retreat within himself,
and give no other answer than the desired one.

In so far as this Age admits the possibility of anything
lying beyond the confines of the mere knowledge of the
physical world, although it does so in a somewhat incon
sequential manner, and only because such things are also
present in Experience, and on account of such Experience
are taught in the Schools, it becomes its highest wisdom
to doubt of everything, and in no matter to take a part
either on the one side or the other. In this neutrality, this
immoveable impartiality, this incorruptible indifference to
all truth, it places its most excellent and perfect wisdom ;
and the charge of having a system appears to it as a disgrace
by which the reputation of a man is irretrievably destroyed.
Such scientific cobwebs are only devised in order that young

GENERAL DELINEATION OF THE THIRD AGE. 29

persons of the lower classes, who have no opportunity of
seeing the great world, may, by amusing themselves with
them, develop their capacities for active life. For this
purpose every opinion and every proposition, affirmative
as well as negative, are equally available ; and it is a con
temptible blunder to mistake jest for earnest, and to in
terest oneself for any side of such a controversy as if it
were something of importance.

With respect to the influence which it exerts upon Na
ture and its employment of her powers and products, such
an Age looks everywhere only to the immediately and ma
terially useful, to that, namely, which is serviceable for
dwelling, clothing, and food, to cheapness, convenience,
and, where it attains its highest point, to fashion ; but that
higher dominion over Nature whereby the majestic image
of Man as a Race is stamped upon its opposing forces, I
mean the dominion of Ideas, in which the essential nature
of Fine Art consists, this is wholly unknown to such an
Age; and even when the occasional appearance of men of
more spiritual nature may remind it of this higher sove
reignty, it only laughs at such aspirations as mere visionary
extravagance ; and thus Art itself, reduced to its most me
chanical forms, is degraded into a new vehicle of fashion,
the instrument of a capricious luxury, alien to the Eter
nities of the Ideal world. With respect to the legislative
constitution of States and the government of Nations,
such an Age either, impelled by its hatred to the old, con
structs political fabrics upon the most airy and unsubstantial
abstractions, and attempts to govern degenerate men by
means of high-sounding phrases without the aid of firm and
inflexible power ; or, impelled by its idol Experience, it
hastens, on every emergency, whether of great or small im
portance, being convinced beforehand of its own utter in
ability to determine upon a course of action for itself, to
consult the chronicles of the Past, to read there how others
have formerly acted under similar circumstances, and takes

30 LECTUKE II.

from thence the law of its own conduct ; and in this way
constructs its political existence out of a confused patchwork
gathered from many different Ages long since dead, there
by openly displaying a clear consciousness of its own utter
nothingness. With respect to Morality, it proclaims this
as the only Virtue, that we should pursue our own indi
vidual interests, at furthest addiDg thereto those of others
(either as bound in honour so to do, or else from mere in
consequence) so far as they are not inconsistent with our
own; and this as the only Vice, to fail in the pursuit of our
own advantage. It maintains, and since it can have no
difficulty in discovering an ignoble motive for every action,
inasmuch as it is quite unacquainted with aught that par
takes of nobleness, it even pretends to prove, that all
men who live or have ever lived have actually thought and
acted in this way, and that there is absolutely no other
motive of action in man than Self-Interest; compassion
ating those who assume the existence of any other as silly
fools who are as yet ignorant of the world and of men.
Lastly, with respect to Religion, it also is changed into
a mere Doctrine of Happiness, designed to remind us that
man must be temperate in enjoyment in order that his
enjoyments may be lasting and varied ; a God is deemed
necessary only in order that he may care for our welfare,
and it is our wants alone which have called him into
existence and determined him to be. Whatever it may
chance to retain of the super-sensual elements of any already
existing system of Religion owes this forbearance only to
the need there may be of a curb for the unbridled populace,
which however the cultivated classes do not require; and to
the want of a more efficient means of supplementing the
deficiencies of the Police or of judicial Evidence. In short,
and to express the matter in one word, such an Age
has reached its highest point of development when it has
attained a clear conviction that Reason, and with Reason
all that lies beyond mere sensuous personal Existence, is

GENERAL DELINEATION OF THE THIRD AGE. 31

only an invention of certain idle individuals called Philo-^
sophers.

So much for the general delineation of the Third Age,
the individual features of which we shall set forth and ex
amine in detail in our future addresses. Only one other
characteristic we shall notice at present, which inasmuch as
it affects the form of the whole Epoch, cannot be passed over
here ; this, namely, that this Age, in its best repre
sentatives, is so confident, so firmly assured of the truth
of its views, that in this respect it is not surpassed even
by the certainty of scientific conviction. It looks down
with unspeakable pity and compassion upon those earlier
Ages in which men were still so weak-minded as to allow
themselves to be seduced from pleasures which were offered
to their immediate enjoyment by a spectre which they named
Virtue, and by a dream of a super-sensual world ; upon
those Ages of darkness and superstition, when they, the re
presentatives of a new Age, had not yet appeared, had not
yet fathomed and thoroughly laid open the depths of the
human heart, had not yet made the great and astounding
discovery, and loudly proclaimed and universally promul
gated it, that this heart is at bottom nothing but a base
puddle. It does not oppose, but only compassionates and
good-naturedly smiles at those who, living in it, yet reject
its opinions ; and calmly settles itself in the philanthropic
hope that they too may one day raise themselves to the
same point of view, when they shall have been matured
by age and experience ; or when they shall have studied,
as thoroughly as its own representatives have done, that
which it calls History. But here, although this is lost
upon those representatives, Knowledge is their master,
inasmuch as the latter perfectly comprehends its oppo
nents mode of thought, can reconstruct it from its separate
parts, is able to restore it, should it unfortunately be lost
to the world, and even finds it to be perfectly just when
considered from its proper point of view. Thus, were we

32 LECTURE II.

to speak in the name of Knowledge, the supposed im
pregnability of the mode of thought which we have now
described arises precisely in this way ; that, considered
from the point of view where its advocates are placed, it
is perfectly just ; and however frequently they may re-
examine the chain of their conclusions they will never
discover any break in its sequence. If there be absolutely
nothing but the sensuous existence of Individuality, without
any higher life of the Race ; then there can be no other
source of knowledge but Experience, for we are obviously
informed concerning this sensuous existence only by Ex
perience ; and just on that account every other pretended
source of knowledge, and whatever may flow therefrom, must
of necessity be a mere dream and phantom of the brain ;
whereby indeed is left unexplained the actual possibility of
such dreaming, and of so conjuring out of the brain what
in reality the brain does not contain; from which explana-
nation, however, our representatives wisely abstain, satisfied
with the experience that such dreams are. And that there
actually is nothing except this sensuous individual existence,
they know very well from this ; that however often and
deeply they have fathomed the abysses of their own being,
they have never been able to discover therein aught but
the feeling of their own personal and sensuous existence.

And thus it follows from all that has been said, that this
manner of thinking is by no means founded upon an error
of reasoning or of judgment, which may be remedied by
pointing out to the Age the mistake into which it has
fallen, and reminding it of the rules of logic which it has
transgressed ; but it is founded upon the altogether defec
tive character of the Age itself, and of those in whom this
character most distinctly shows itself. While it and they
are what they are, they must necessarily think as they
now think ; and if they are to think otherwise than they
do think, they must first of all become something different
from what they are.

GENERAL DELINEATION OF THE THIRD AGE. 33

To close our lecture with the only consoling view which
the subject affords : It is a happiness that even the most
inveterate champions of this manner of thinking are al
ways, against their own thought and will, something better
than their speech proclaims them ; and that the spark of
a higher life in Man, however it may be concealed, is yet
never extinguished, but gleams on with silent and secret
power until material is presented to it at which it may
kindle and burst forth into bright and steady flame. To
fan this spark of a higher life, and as far as possible to
furnish it with materials for its activity, is also one of the
objects of these lectures.

(35)

LECTURE III.

THE LIFE ACCORDING TO REASON.

IT is only by degrees that clearness can spread itself over
our inquiry ; only step by step can light penetrate its
deeper recesses; until at length the end reveal itself before
us in unclouded brightness. This condition of our inquiry
lies, as we said in our first lecture, in the unchangeable
laws which regulate all communication of thought. Beyond
the duty incumbent on the speaker to arrange his thoughts
in their proper order, and to set each in its proper place,
his art can do nothing to modify the condition of which
we have spoken, except this, needfully to pause at each
brighter point which presents itself in the course of his
communication, and from thence to send forth rays of light
upon what has gone before and what is to follow.

In our last lecture we arrived at one of these brighter
points in the inquiry which we have undertaken; and it is
tit and proper that we should to-day more fully develop
this point. That the Human Race should order all its re
lations with Freedom according to Reason ; this was set
forth as the end and purpose of the Earthly Life of our
Race ; and the characteristic peculiarity of the Third Age,
which it is our business to describe, was declared to be,
that it had thrown off the yoke of Reason in every shape.
But what Reason itself is, and in what a Life according

36 LECTURE III.

to Reason consists, and what are the relations which are
ordered by Reason in a life so governed by it ; these
things have been indeed indicated in many ways, but not
yet anywhere placed in a clear light. In our last lecture,
however, we said Reason embraces only the ONE Life,
which manifests itself as the Life of the Race, Were Reason
taken away from human life, there would remain only
Individuality and the love of Individuality! Hence the
Life according to Reason consists herein, that the Indi
vidual forget himself in the Race, place his own life in the
life of the Race and dedicate it thereto; the Life opposed
to Reason, on the contrary, consists in this, that the In
dividual think of nothing but himself, love nothing but
himself and in relation to himself, and set his whole ex
istence in his own personal well-being alone : and since
we may briefly call that which is according to Reason good,
and that which is opposed to Reason evil, so there is but
One Virtue, to forget one s own personality; and but One
Vice, to make self the object of our thoughts. Hence
the view of Morality depicted in our last lecture as that of
the Third Age here as everywhere precisely reverses the
fact, and makes that its only Virtue which is in reality
the only Vice, and that its only Vice which is in truth
the only Virtue.

These words are to be understood strictly as we have
spoken them, in their most rigorous sense. The mitigation
of our principle which might be attempted here, namely
that it is only our duty not to think of ourselves exclusively,
but also upon others, is precisely the same Morality as that
which we have represented as belonging to the Third Age,
only that here it is inconsequential, and seeks to disguise
itself, not having yet altogether triumphed over shame.
He who but thinks at all of his own personality, and
desires any kind of life or being, or any joy of life, ex
cept in the Race and for the Race, with whatever vesture
of good deeds he may seek to hide his deformity, is

THE LIFE ACCORDING TO REASON. 37

nevertheless, at bottom, only a mean, base, and therefore
unhappy man. Hence our principle, as we ourselves
have expressed it in all its rigour, it and nothing else,
is our meaning, against which it is, and always will be,
impossible to bring forward any essential objection.

Whatever has been urged against this principle hitherto
since mankind had a being, or can be urged so long as it
shall have a being, is grounded upon the bold assertion that
man cannot forget himself, and that personal self-love has
grown up in such intimate union with his nature that it is
now inextricably interwoven with it. I ask such assertors,
Whence then have they obtained their knowledge of what
man can do, and what he cannot ? Obviously this assertion
of theirs can be founded on nothing else than observation
of themselves ; and it may indeed be true that they for
themselves, since they have become what they are and wish
to remain so, may never be able to forget their own personal
welfare. But by what right do they make the standard of
their ability or non-ability the measure of the capacity of
the Race ? The noble mind can indeed understand the
thought of the ignoble, for we are all born and fashioned in
Egoism, and have all lived in it, and it needs struggle and
effort to destroy this old nature within us ; but the ig
noble cannot know the thoughts of the noble, because he
has never entered the world to which they belong, nor
traversed it as his world has of necessity been traversed
in all its extent by the noble. The latter surveys both
worlds, the former only that which holds him captive ;
as the Waker may in his waking understand the Dream,
and the Seer conceive of Darkness ; but the Dreamer
cannot in his dream comprehend the Waking, nor the
Blind-born imagine Light. Only when they have attained
to this higher world, and have taken possession of it, shall
they be able to do that which they now declare they can
not do, and only by acquiring this ability for themselves
can they learn that Man is capable of acquiring it.

38 LECTURE 111.

Herein, therefore, have we placed the True Life, the
Life according to Reason, that the personal life of Man
be dedicated to that of his Race, that the one be forgotten
in the other. To forget oneself in others : not in others
regarded likewise in a personal character, where there is still
nothing but Individuality; but in others regarded as the
Race. Understand me : the sympathy which prompts us
to mitigate the sorrows of others, and to share and exalt
their joys ; the attachment which binds us to friends and
relatives ; the love that entwines us with our families ; all
these, being frequently attended with considerable sacrifices
of our own personal convenience and enjoyment, are the
first secret and silent movements of Reason as Instinct,
gently breaking down the harshest and coarsest forms of
Egoism, and so laying the foundation for the development
of a wider and more comprehensive love. But as yet this
love, far from comprehending Humanity as a whole, without
distinction of person and considered as the Race, embraces
only individual persons; and although it is thus assuredly
the vestibule to the higher Life, and no one can obtain
entrance to the latter who has not first been consecrated
thereto in this realm of gentler impulses, still it is not
in itself that higher Life. That embraces the Race itself,
as a Race. But the Life of the Race is expressed only in
Ideas ; the fundamental character of which, as well as
their various forms, we shall come to understand sufficiently
in the course of these lectures. Thus the formula which we
laid down, That the life of Man be dedicated to that of
his Race, may also be expressed thus, l That the life of
Man be dedicated to Ideas/ for Ideas embrace the Race as
such, and its Life ; and thus the Life according to Reason,
or the only good and true Life, consists in this, that Man
forget himself in Ideas, and neither seek nor know any
enjoyment save in Ideas, and in sacrificing all other enjoy
ments for them. Thus far for our explanation. Let us
now 7 proceed to another matter.

THE LIFE ACCORDING TO REASON. 39

Th is, namely : If you yourselves, compelled by an inward
power, should feel it impossible to withhold your approval,
your admiration, and your reverence from a Life such as we
have described, and were even compelled to reverence it
more profoundly the greater and more evident the sacrifices
made at the shrine of Ideas, so surely, I say, would it be
obvious, from this your approval, that there is a principle,
indestructibly rooted in your minds, which proclaims that
the personal life ought to be brought a sacrifice to the Idea,
and that the Life in which it is so offered up is the only true
and upright Life; hence, if we regard the matter strictly,
that the individual life has no real existence, since it has no
value of itself, but must and should sink to nothing ; while,
on the contrary, the Race alone exists, since it alone ought
to be looked upon as really living. In this way we should
keep the promise we gave in our former lecture, to show
you, in a popular way and by your own knowledge of
yourselves, that the principle which we then announced,
and which at first sight seemed so paradoxical, was in truth
already well known and admitted by you, and indeed was
the constant director and guide of your judgment, although
you might not be clearly conscious of it; and we should
thus attain both the objects which I had in view in the
present lecture.

That you should actually be necessitated to approve, ad
mire, and reverence such a Life as we have described, was
the first step in our argument, upon which all else depended,
and from which all else necessarily followed ; and this
we must commit entirely to your own reflection, without
interference on our part. Hence it is only my task to
make an experiment on you and within you, and should
this succeed, as I expect it will, then we shall have proved
our position.

I shall make this experiment upon your minds, unques
tionably with the view of exciting a certain feeling in you ;
but not so as to take you unawares, or to excite this feel-

40 LECTURE III.

ing merely for the sake of exciting it, and that so I may
be enabled to make a momentary use of it to aid my pur
pose, as the orator does; but, on the contrary, that this
feeling may be excited in you with your own clear and
distinct consciousness and concurrence, not exerting a mere
passive influence on you, but to the end that its existence
may be clearly recognised by you, and that it may thus
be more fully and completely understood.

The philosopher is compelled, by the rules of Ids art, to
deal with perfect openness and honesty ; and in return he
acquires a power which lies far beyond the sophistries of
mere eloquence ; he is able to declare to his hearers before
hand the emotion which he desires to excite within them,
and, provided they rightly understand him, to attain his
object notwithstanding the disclosure.

This free and open announcement of the purpose which
we have in view, lays me under an obligation to describe
more particularly the nature of the effect which I shall at
tempt to produce within you ; and in order to maintain the
clear, intelligible position which we have now attained, I
shall at once proceed to this description. I have only to
ask you to fix in your mind a few expressions and phrases
which may not as yet be entirely distinct to you, but which
shall be made perfectly clear in the sequel.

The Life according to Reason must necessarily love itself;
for every form of life, as its own perfect result and fulfil
ment, is enjoyment of itself. As surely as Reason can never
be entirely extinguished among men, so surely can this love
of Reason for itself never be utterly destroyed ; nay, this
love, as the deepest root of all rational existence, and as
the sole remaining tie which keeps men within the circle of
rational existence, is precisely that whereby we may most
surely recognise and attain the Life according to Reason,
if we will only be honest and unprejudiced.

Now the Life opposed to Reason, that of mere Indivi
duality, likewise loves itself; since it too is life, and all

THE LIFE ACCORDING TO REASON. 41

life necessarily loves itself. But as these two forms of life
are thoroughly opposed to each other, so also are the kinds
of love and satisfaction which they have in themselves quite
opposed to each other, wholly and specifically different;
and in this specific difference they are easily recognised
and distinguished from each other.

To begin with the love which the Life according to Keason
entertains for itself. Towards this Life we may stand in a
double relation : either, we may possess it only in concep
tion, in a feeble and imperfect representation, and only as
received from others ; or, we may ourselves truly and in
reality be and live this Life. That mankind cannot at
the present day stand in the latter relation, since, in that
case, there would be not only no Egoism, and no Third Age
of the world, but also no true Freedom, this has already
been admitted; nay more, that we have been all fashioned
and born outside of this relation, and can only by labour
and toil place ourselves therein. Hence it must be the
first relation, namely the possession, or the capacity of
possessing, the Life according to Reason in conception,
which is never wholly extinguished among men, which all
have the power to attain, and by which all may at least
comprehend the Life according to Reason.

The love which the Life opposed to Reason bears to itself,
with which indeed we are all better acquainted, and to which
our language more easily accommodates itself, manifests
itself in its specific character, both in general and in parti
culars, as delight in its own sagacity, petty pride in its own
cleverness and penetration, and, to designate an ignoble
thing by a befitting ignoble expression, as self-satisfied
chuckling over its own cunning. Thus in the former lecture
it was represented as a fundamental characteristic of the
Third Age, that it looked down with haughty self-compla
cency on those who suffer themselves to be defrauded of pre
sent enjoyment by a dream of Virtue, congratulating itself
that it isfar above such delusions, and therefore secure from

42 LECTURE III.

being imposed upon ; its true character being admirably
expressed in a single phrase, would-be-Enlightenment.
Thus the highest and most refined enjoyment which he who
cares best for his own advantage, and successfully pursues
it through many difficulties, can attain, is the satisfaction
he must feel in his own shrewdness and skill. On the
contrary, the love which the Life according to Reason
bears to itself, as a legitimate and well-ordered existence,
manifests itself in its specific character, not as unexpected
gratification, but in the dignified form of approval, esteem,
and reverence.

In so far as we have attained the Life according to Reason,
in the first way, namely, in conception, and as a picture of
a Life removed from our own, in so far will this conception
lovingly welcome and dwell upon itself in delighted compla
cency j f or> i n that case, we shall at least have entered
so far into the sphere of the Life of Reason, as to possess
a worthy and adequate image of it. (We may add here,
for the benefit of those who are acquainted with the
scientific language of philosophy, that the feeling thus
produced is an aesthetic pleasure, and indeed the highest
aesthetic pleasure.)

This pleasure, however, this approbation of something
foreign to us, something which we ourselves are not, in
spires us with respect and reverence, combined, in the best
of our race, with silent unsatisfied regards thrown back upon
themselves, and a secret longing to assimilate their own life
to the object of their love; out of which longing the higher
Life gradually unfolds itself. In so far as, in the second way,
the Life according to Reason actually becomes conscious of
itself as a real and present existence, it flows forth in un
speakable enjoyment and satisfaction, before the thought of
which the Egoist must retreat in envy could he entertain
the thought; in this love to itself, it becomes pure Blessed
ness. For all feelings of disappointment and dissatisfaction,
as well as those of desire and insufficiency, are nothing else

THE LIFE ACCORDING TO REASON. 43

than the birth-pains of the higher Life struggling towards
its perfect development. Is it developed ? then is it tho
roughly satisfied with itself, and sufficient for itself, needing
nothing more, but possessing the most perfect Freedom
within itself and in the consciousness of its own inherent
power. Let us in the present lecture test the first con
dition by ourselves ; in the next I shall attempt to present
to you a feeble description of the second.

For our present purpose, I shall maintain the following
proposition: Everything great and good upon which our
present existence rests, from which it has proceeded, and
on the supposition of which alone our Age can order itself
in the way it actually does, has an existence only because
noble and powerful men have resigned all the enjoyments
of life for the sake of Ideas; and we ourselves, and all that
we are, are the result of the sacrifices of all previous genera
tions, and especially of their worthiest members. I have,
however, no thought of making use of this remark to bribe
you into toleration towards our predecessors by con
templation of the advantages which we have derived from
their sacrifices; for in that case I should excite in you, and
make use of for my present purpose, precisely that mode of
thought which, had I the power, I would extirpate from the
world ; and then I might justly expect this answer, It is
well for us that these fools have lived, who, in the sweat of
their brow, gathered together the treasures we now enjoy ;
we shall, so far as in us lies, avoid similar folly : let other
generations look to their own prosperity when we shall be
no more ; and I should not be able to avoid commending
this answer as, at least, consistent. It has even been seen,
that with regard to efforts for the sake of Humanity
which, provided they were otherwise conducted with pro
priety, have deserved no blame in this respect, men have
lifted up their voices and asked, Is it right that this
generation should make such sacrifices for the future?
and thereupon looked around with triumph, as if they had

44 LECTURE III.

uttered something very profound and secure from contro
versy. At present, however, I only wish to know this,
whether you do not feel constrained to respect and admire
in the highest degree such a course of thought and action,
quite independently of any consideration of its prudence,
upon which no judgment is now demanded.

Let us cast a glance on the world around us. You know
that even now many tracts of the Earth s surface are still
covered with putrid morasses and impenetrable forests, the
cold and damp atmosphere of which gives birth to noxious
insects, and breathes forth devastating epidemics ; which
are almost entirely the dwelling-place of wild animals, and
only afford to the few creatures in human form who are to
be found in them the means of dragging on a dull and
joyless existence, without freedom, usefulness, or dignity.
History informs us that the countries which we inhabit at
the present day formerly bore the same character to a large
extent. Now, the morasses are dried up ; the forests cleared
out and changed into fruitful plains and vineyards which
purify the air and fill it with enlivening fragrance ; the
rivers are taught to keep their channels, and enduring
bridges are laid across them; villages and towns have arisen,
with lasting, convenient, and agreeable dwelling-places for
men, and public buildings, which have already braved the
storms of centuries, for the purposes of mental improvement
and elevation. You know that, even at the present day,
savage hordes roam over vast wildernesses, maintaining a
miserable life upon impure and loathsome food, and yet,
when they encounter each other, engaging in warfare for
the sake of this scanty subsistence, and of their wretched
implements of acquisition and enjoyment, extending the
fury of their vengeance even to devouring their fellow-
men. It is in the highest degree probable that we are
all of us descendants of such races ; that our forefathers,
at least in some of their generations, have passed through
this condition. Now, men are assembled from out the

THE LIFE ACCORDING TO REASON. 45

forests and united together in masses. In the savage
state each family had to provide for its manifold wants
immediately and without assistance from others, and had
even to fabricate for itself the utensils for that purpose,
with much loss of time and waste of energy : Now, the
human multitudes are divided into classes, each of which
pursues its own profession, to the acquirement and exercise
of which its life is devoted; providing in its own department
for all other classes, and provided for by them with respect
to all its other wants ; and thus are the forces of Nature
confronted by the greatest possible amount of the cultivated,
ordered and combined powers of Reason. The laws and
their administrators interpose an insuperable barrier to the
fury of personal warfare and spoliation; quarrels are adjusted
without bloodshed, and the lust of crime is scared back by
severe punishments into the dark recesses of thought ;
and thus is internal peace secured, arid every one moves in
safety within the limits which are prescribed to him. Large
masses of men, frequently sprung from the most dissimilar
origin, and united one scarce knows how, encounter similar
masses in as wonderful combination, and neither being fully
acquainted with the power of the other, reciprocal fear steps
in between them, so that men are sometimes blessed even
with external tranquillity ; or when it does come to war,
the superior power is often worn out and broken by the
determined resistance of its opponent, and instead of the
secretly desired extermination, peace is the result ; and
thus has sprung up a kind of international law between
independent countries, and from among opposing tribes a
kind of republic of nations has arisen. You know how, even
to the present time, the timid savage, unacquainted even
with himself, finds a hindrance or a destroying foe in every
power of Nature. To us, Science has laid open our own
spiritual being, and thereby, in a great measure, subjected
to our will the outward physical forces of the universe.
Mechanical science has multiplied, almost to infinity, the

46 LECTURE III.

feeble powers of man, and continues to multiply them.
Chemistry has introduced us into many chambers of the
secret workshop of Nature, and enabled us to apply her
wonders to our own uses, and to protect ourselves from
the injuries they might otherwise inflict upon us. As
tronomy has scaled the heavens for us, and measured
their paths. You know, and the whole history of the
Past as well as the description of the savage tribes which
still exist upon the earth proves it to you, that all nations,
the most cultivated not excepted, flying from the horrors
of external Nature, and penetrating to the secret depths
of their own heart, have first discovered there the most
fearful of all horrors ; the Godhead as their enemy. By
cringing humiliation and entreaty, by sacrifice of that
which was dearest to them, by voluntary self-imposed
penances, by human immolation, by the blood of an only-
begotten Son, if need were, have they sought to bribe
this Being so jealous of human happiness, and to reconcile
him to their unexpected strokes of fortune, by humbly
deprecating his resentment.

This is the Religion of the ancient world, and of the
savage tribes which still exist, and I challenge the student
of History to point out any other. From us this phantom
has disappeared long ago ; and the redemption and satis
faction spoken of in a certain system is a public matter of
fact, in which we may either believe or not, and which is
all the more a matter of fact the less we believe in it. Our
Age, far from shunning the Godhead, has, by its represen
tatives, constituted the Deity the minister of its pleasures.
We, for our part, far from finding fault with them on ac
count of this want of the fear of God, rather count it one of
their advantages ; and since they are incapable of the right
enjoyment of the Godhead, of loving it, and living in it,
and thus attaining Blessedness, we may be well pleased
that, at least, they do not fear it. Let them, if they please,
throw it off altogether, or so fashion it as may be most
agreeable to them.

THE LIFE ACCORDING TO REASON. 47

"What I have declared in the first place, was once the form
of Humanity, and in part is so still: what I have described
in the second, is its present form, at least among ourselves.
How, by whom, and by what manner of impulses, has this
new creation been accomplished ?

Who then, in the first place, gave to the countries of
Modern Europe their present habitable shape, and made
them worthy to be the dwelling-place of cultivated men ?
History answers the question. It was pious and holy men,
who, believing it to be God s Will that the timid fugitive of
the woods should be elevated to civilized life, and thereby
to the blessed knowledge of a Godhead full of love to man,
left the abodes of civilization and all the physical and
intellectual enjoyments to be found there, left their fami
lies, friends and associates, and went forth into the desert
wilderness, enduring the bitterest privations, encountering
the severest labour, and, what is more, pursuing their end
with unwearied patience, that they might win the confidence
of untutored tribes, by whom they were persecuted and
robbed; frequently terminating an anxious and weary life
by a martyr s death at the hands of those for whom, and
for us their descendants, they died, rejoicing in the hope
that from their ashes a worthier generation should arise.
These men, without doubt, gave up their personal life and
its enjoyments for their Idea, and in this Idea for the Race.
And should any one offer this objection : They indeed
sacrificed the present life for the expectation of an infinitely
higher, heavenly, and blessed life, which they hoped to de
serve by these sacrifices and sufferings ; but still it was only
enjoyment for enjoyment, and indeed the lesser for the
greater ; then I would entreat such an objector earnestly
to consider with me the following. How inadequately soever
they might express themselves in words as to the Blessed
ness of another world, and with what sensuous pictures
.soever they might clothe their descriptions of this happi
ness, I ask only to know how they arrived at this firm

48 LECTURE III.

Faith in another world, which they attested so nobly by
their deeds; and what this Faith, as an act of the mind,
really is. Does not the mind which faithfully accepts
another world as certain, in this very acceptance renounce
the present ? and is not this Faith itself the sacrifice,
once and for ever accomplished and perfected in the mind,
and which only manifests itself outwardly when special
circumstances call it forth ? Let it be no wonder at all,
bud quite a conceivable thing, and only what thou thyself,
who makest this objection, wert thou in the same position,
wouldst do, that they willingly sacrificed everything to
their belief in an Eternal Life : let this be so ; then is it
the wonder that they did believe; in which belief the
Egoist, who is incapable of letting the Present escape, even
for a moment, from his view, can never follow nor even
approach them.

Who has united rude races together, and reduced oppos
ing tribes under the dominion of law, and to the habits of
peaceful life ? Who has maintained them in this condition,
and protected existing states from dissolution through in
ternal disorder, or destruction by outward power? Whatever
name they may have borne,it was Heroes, who had left their
Age far behind them, giants among surrounding men in
material and spiritual power. They subdued to their Idea of
what ought to Je, races by whom they were on that account
hated and feared; through sleepless nights of thought they
pondered their anxious plans for their fellow-men ; from
battlefield to battlefield they rushed without weariness or
rest, renouncing the enjoyments which lay within their
grasp, making their life a spoil, often shedding their blood.
And what sought they by these labours ? and how were
they rewarded ? It was an Idea, a mere Idea of a new condi
tion of things to be brought about by them, to be realized
for its own sake alone, and without reference to any ulterior
purpose ; this it was which inspired them ; and it was
the unspeakable delight of this Idea which rewarded and

THE LIFE ACCOEDING TO REASON. 49

indemnified them for all their labours and sacrifices;
it was this Idea which lay at the root of their inward
life, which cast the outward life into shade, and threw
it aside as something undeserving of thought; it was
the power of this Idea which made them giants in phy
sical and mental energy, although by birth like their
fellow-men ; and their personal life was dedicated to this
Idea which first moulded that life into a worthy and
accepted offering.

What impels the King, securely seated on a hereditary
throne, with the fulness of the land spread out before
him for his enjoyment, what impels (to combine my
question with a well-known example so often miscon
strued by a race of pigmy sentimentalists) what impels
the Macedonian hero to leave his hereditary kingdom
already well secured on all sides and richly provided for
by his father and to seek foreign lands to the conquest
of which he forces his way by unceasing efforts ? Will
he thereby be happier or more contented ? What chains
victory to his footsteps, and scatters before him in terror
the countless hordes of his enemies ? Is this mere
fortune ? No ! it is an Idea which first gives the im
pulse, and which crowns the effort with success. Effeminate
half-barbarians had looked down with scorn upon the
most highly civilized people then living beneath the
sun on account of their smaller numbers, and had even
dared to entertain the thought of their subjugation ;
they had actually subdued kindred tribes dwelling in
Asia, and subjected the cultivated and the free to the
laws and odious inflictions of rude and enslaved nations.
This outrage must not be perpetrated with impunity :
on the contrary, the civilized must rule and the un
civilized must obey, if Right is to be the Law of the
world. This Idea had already been long cherished in the
nobler Grecian minds, until in Alexander it became a
living flame which animated and consumed his personal

9

50 LECTURE III.

life. Tell me not of the thousands who fell around his
path ; speak not of his own early ensuing death : after
the realization of his Idea, what was there greater for him
to do than to die ?

(51 )

LECTUKE IY.

THE LIFE ACCORDING TO KEASON.

IN our last lecture we set forth the principle directly
opposed to that of the Third Age which we have under
taken to characterize, the principle of the Life according
to Reason ; this, namely, that_the_personal life of man
should be devoted to the Life ofjhejlace, or, as we further
denned this expression. L to_Ideas ; and we found it desirable
to prolong our consideration of this principle, as one of the
more luminous points in our inquiry. I proposed, in the
first place, to show you by your own nature, that you could
not help approving, admiring, and respecting in the highest
degree the sacrifice of the enjoyments of life for the
realization of an Idea ; that hence a principle upon which
this judgment was founded must exist indestructibly within
you ; a principle namely to this effect, that the personal
life ought to be given_up-ior the Idea ; and that, strictly
speaking, personal existence is not, since it should thus be
sacrificed ; while, on the contrary, the life in the Idea alone
is, since it alone ouglit to be maintained. I explained this
expected admiration on your part by this proposition : All
life necessarily loves itself, and therefore the Life according
to Reason must love itself, and, as the only true and real
Life, must love itself with a love far exceeding all other love.
Now the Life according to Reason may exist and be known

52 LECTURE IV.

to man in two different ways : either in mere conception,

and as the picture of a condition foreign to his own ; or

by himself living this life. In the first case, it loves itself
and delights in itself as seen in this conception, because this
is at least the conception of the Life according to Reason,
and is itself according to Reason; and then there arises the
approval, admiration, and reverence of which we have
spoken. In the second case, it rises to infinite enjoyment
of its own being, which is Blessedness. The former con
dition, that of approval, I proposed to test by your own
feelings in our last lecture ; promising you for to-day a
feeble description of the second.

And in the fulfilment of my first object, that I might not
roam about at random, blindly groping among my materials,
but arrange my thoughts around a common centre, I said
Everything great and good on which our Age rests, and by
the power of which it exists, has been brought about bv the
sacrifices which the Past has made for Ideas. By calling to
mind that the land had been redeemed from the state of
wildness to that of cultivation, mankind from the state of
war to that of peace, from ignorance to knowledge, from
blind terror before God to emancipation from such fear,
I showed that the first of these changes, at least in the
countries which we inhabit, had been effected by pious
and holy men ; and the last, everywhere and in all lands,
by Heroes ; all of whom, the one class as well as the
other, had sacrificed their life and its enjoyments for the
sake of their Ideas. While I was proceeding to answer
an objection which might be made with reference to this
last point, my discourse was interrupted by the expiry of
our usual time, and I now resume it at the same place.

It is Honour, some one may say, which inspires the
Hero, the burning image of his fame now and in after-
times, which impels him onward through difficulty and
danger, and which repays him for his life of sacrifice and
self-denial in the coin on which he sets most value. I

THE LIFE ACCORDING TO KEASON. 53

answer, even if this should be so, what then is this Hon
our ? Whence has this thought of the judgment which
others may pass upon us, particularly of the judgment of
future generations whose praise or blame shall echo over
our graves unheard by us ; whence has it acquired this
amazing power which enables it to suppress and extinguish
the personal life of the Hero ? Is it not obvious that
in the depths of his mind there lies a principle which
tells him that only on one condition can his life be of
any value to him, can be even endurable by him ; this,
namely, that the voices of Mankind at large shall unite in
ascribing a value to it ? Is not this very thought the Idea
of the Race, and of its judgment as a Race on the Indi
vidual, and the admission that the Race alone is entitled to
pass the final judgment upon true merit ? Is it not the
supposition that this final judgment must be grounded on
the inquiry whether the Individual has or has not devoted
himself to the Race ? and is it not a silent, respectful ac
quiescence in this judgment proceeding on these premises?
in a word, is not this Idea precisely that in which we
have placed the Life according to Reason ? But let us
more thoroughly investigate this matter.

The Hero acts : undoubtedly then, I add, he acts in a
certain way; in order, it is said, thereby to acquire fame
in the eyes of Present and Future Ages: undoubtedly
then, I add again, without having first interrogated the
Present and Future Ages whether they would laud a life so
employed; without, I add yet again, having had it in
his power to seek counsel of experience in any way upon
this question ; because his mode of action, so surely as it
proceeds upon an Idea, is a new, hitherto unknown mode,
upon which therefore no human judgment has ever yet
been pronounced. But, it is said, he reckons so securely
on fame being the result of this mode of action, that he is
ready to peril his life on the accuracy of his calculations.
How does he know, then, that he has not miscalculated ?

54 LECTURE IV.

At the time when he goes forth into action, and has already
once for all completed in his own mind the consecration of
his life, he and he only, and none other but himself, has
examined and approved the mode of life which he has set
before him ; how then does he know that Present and
Future Ages will likewise approve it and cover it with im
mortal glory ? how does he come so boldly to ascribe to
the whole Race his own standard of what is honourable and
praiseworthy ? Yet he does this, as is alleged ; and this
single remark of itself proves, that, in acting as he does,
far from being moved thereto by the hope of future fame,
he holds up to future Ages, in his own deeds springing forth
in native purity from the primeval fountain of honour, the
example of what they must approve and reverence, if their
judgment is to have any weight with him ; despising and
even utterly rejecting such judgment if it be not in ac
cordance with that which has already approved itself to him
as worthy of eternal honour and respect. And thus it is
not ambition which is the parent of great deeds, but great
deeds themselves give birth to faith in a world in which
they must command respect. That form of Honour, indeed,
which comes before us in every-day life, and of which we
do not now speak, proceeds entirely from fear of dis
grace ; without power to excite man to active duty, it
only holds him back from that which would be notoriously
despised, and disappears as soon as he can hope to pass
unnoticed. Another Ambition, of which too we do not
now speak, which first pores over ancient chronicles to
discover what in them is commended, and then endeavours
to imitate that, so as also to become an object of commen
dation ; and which being incapable of creating the New,
strives to reproduce in itself certain effete memorials of
the Past, which once indeed may have possessed life and
energy : such an ambition may sacrifice itself, but
that to which it devotes itself is not an Idea but a Con
ceit ; and it misses its purpose ; for what is once dead

THE LIFE ACCORDING TO REASON. 55

never lives again, and whatever may be its success in
the senseless and purblind Present, the Future will
assuredly despise the Imitator who mistakes himself for
a Creator.

This remark upon Honour, which has been here ad
duced only in reference to Heroism, is also applicable to
what is to follow, where in like manner superficiality is
wont to speak of an ambition the nature and possibility
of which it has not power to comprehend.

In our former lecture we said that the once timid savage,
to whom every power of Nature was an obstacle and a
hindrance, is now through Science made acquainted with
his own constitution, and has thus attained a mastery
over the powers of the outward universe. Who are they
who have discovered and extended the Sciences ? have
they accomplished this without labour and sacrifice ?
what has been their reward ?

While the Age in which they lived spent its days in gay
enjoyment, they sat wrapt in solitary thought, in order that
they might disclose a law or a relation which had called
forth their admiration, and with respect to which they had
absolutely no other desire than simply to disclose it ; sac
rificing pleasure and fortune, neglecting their outward con
cerns, and lavishing their finest genius in these researches ;
laughed at by the multitude as fools and dreamers. Now,
their discoveries have proved of manifold advantage to hu
man life, as we have already called to mind. But have
they themselves enjoyed these fruits of their labours ? have
they foreseen or even conjectured these results? have
they not rather, when their spiritual aspirations have been
repressed by such views of their occupation, uttered truly
sublime lamentations over the desecration of the Holy to
the profane uses of life, it being concealed from them that
life itself must be thereby sanctified ? Only when, through
their labours, these discoveries had been made so compre
hensible, and a knowledge of them had been so widely

56 LECTURE IV.

diffused, as to be carried out into practice by less inspired
minds (whom we, looking from an entirely different point
of view, would by no means on that account despise, but
of whom it should be distinctly understood that they are
not of so noble a nature as the first ;) only then have
these discoveries been applied to the wants of life, and so
become the means of arming the Human Race with supe
rior power over the forces of Nature. If, thus, no vision,
not even a presentiment, of the usefulness of their disco
veries could indemnify them for their sacrifices, what was
their reward ? and what, at the present day, is the reward
of those, if at the present day there be such, who with the
same devotion, the same sacrifices, the same disinterested
zeal, amid the scorn and mockery of the vulgar, raise their
eyes towards the ever-flowing fountain of Truth ? This it
is : they have entered into a new life-element of spiritual
clearness and purity, whereby life in any other form be
comes absolutely repulsive to them. A Higher World,
which is first and most intimately made known to us by
the light which is native within it, has arisen upon them ;
this light has filled their eyes with its beneficent and in
spiring radiance, so that henceforth and forever they can
regard nothing but that illumined height shining in deep
surrounding darkness. This heavenly vision so rivets
their gaze, so enchains their whole being, that every other
sense is silently absorbed therein. They need no recom
pense ; they have made an incalculable gain.

The dreadful phantom of a Deity hostile to Mankind
has vanished, and the Human Race is now delivered from
this horror, and enjoys tranquillity and freedom. Who
has eradicated this error, so widely spread and deeply rooted
among all nations ? has this been accomplished without
sacrifice ? what has been the reward of such sacrifice ?

It is the Christian Religion alone which has wrought
this stupendous miracle, and it has accomplished this
triumph by means of countless sacrifices on the part of

THE LIFE ACCORDING TO REASON. 57

those whose lives have been filled by its inspiration and
devoted to its service. What they have endured ; what
the Exalted Founder himself, what his immediate fol
lowers, what their successors through a long series of
ages, until even to us, as to a later birth, their word
came; what they all have wrought and suffered among
rude and superstitious nations, animated only by the
gladdening and inspiring truth which had risen upon
their souls and become the ruling impulse of their lives,
I shall not here call to mind. This Age is not ignorant,
of these things ; it brings them sufficiently into notice,
in order that it may laugh at the fanaticism which is
all it can discover in them. Only through Christianity ;
through the vast miracle in which it had its origin, and ^
by which it was ushered into the world, has this change
been effected. It is no doubt quite conceivable that after
the Truth has once been proclaimed, and in consequence
of its numerous adherents has even acquired an authority
among men, we may by peaceful inquiry investigate its
foundations, reconstruct it by the power of our own under
standing, and so, in a certain sense, rediscover it : but whence
the great Founder obtained courage boldly to confront
the phantom which had been consecrated by the universal
assent of all former Ages, and the very thought of which
had paralysed every exertion, and to discover that it ivas not,
but that instead of it there was only Happiness and
L ove . this was the miracle. So far as regards the re
presentatives of this Age, it is very certain, if we may judge
by other proofs of their acuteness and penetration, that
it is not this acuteness, but only the unacknowledged
influence exercised over them by this very tradition, an
influence which they deride wherever their dull eye can
reach it, to which they owe it that they do not, even
to the present day, smite their faces before idols of wood,
and pass their children through the fire to Moloch.

Whether you can forbear from passing a sentence of

58 LECTURE IV.

approval on the sacrifice of personal enjoyment for the
sake of Ideas manifested in all these examples, is the
question which I must now leave you to answer for
yourselves, and also to draw from this phenomenon the
inferences which, as we formerly maintained, must neces
sarily follow from it.

This approval is, as we formerly explained, the immediate
effect of the contemplation of the Life in Idea merely in
conception, and as a condition foreign to ourselves. We
added that the existence of this Life, not in conception
only, but in living reality, was the source of an infinite
self-enjoyment, which is Blessedness ; and we promised a
description of this state, which may indeed prove but weak
and inadequate, as every mere picture of a living reality
must prove.

This is the place more definitely to explain the peculiar
nature of the Idea as such ; an explanation for which
we have endeavoured to prepare the w r ay by our previous
course of thought.

I sa} r , then, that the Idea is an independent, living, matter-
inspiring Thought.

First, an independent Thought: Herein, indeed, con
sists the perverted way of thinking of the Third Age,
and generally every perverted way of thinking, that it
ascribes independence, self-reliance, and self-subsistence to
mere dead and torpid matter, and then superadds to that
the quite superfluous quality of thought, one knows not
why or how. No! Thought itself is alone truly indepen
dent and self-existent ; not indeed the thought which
belongs to the single thinking Individual, which truly
cannot be self-existent, but the One Eternal Thought, in
which all Individuals are but Thoughts. The innermost
root of this world is not Death, Death which, by gradual
restriction and limitation of its power, may be refined and
subtilized into Life; but, on the contrary, Life is the root
of the World, and what there seems to be Death is but a

THE LIFE ACCORDING TO REASON. 59

feebler form of Life. A living Thought : as is obvious
at once, for Thought is by its very nature living, even
as self-existence is by its very nature living ; and thus
Thought can only be conceived of as self-existent, and
self-existence can only be ascribed to Thought, inasmuch
as both bear within them the Idea of Life. A matter-
inspiring Thought : and this in a two-fold sense : All
^material Life is the expression of the Idea; for matter
itself is but the reflection of a latent Idea, from which
it derives the motion and vitality it contains. But where
the Idea breaks through this external covering, reveals
itself openly and distinctly as Idea, and bursts forth in
its own peculiar self-sustaining Life, then the lower grade
of life, where the Idea lies latent, disappears in the
higher, which now alone fills the individual life, and
lives its own Life therein ; and then arises, in a word,
that phenomenon which has shown itself in all our pre
vious descriptions, the phenomenon of the sacrifice of
the personal, i.e. of the undeveloped ideal life, to the Life
of the Idea distinctly revealed as such. Thus, I say, it is
with Life : not the flesh liveth but the spirit ; and this
fundamental truth, which the speculative philosopher can
prove by the necessary laws of thought, has been verified
and proved in his own person by every one in whom the
Idea has assumed a determinate living form, although it may
be that he himself has not been clearly conscious of it. To
raise this direct proof from personal experience into the
clearness of distinct consciousness, and so bring it home to
every one, is the business of popular-philosophical teaching,
find here especially it is mine.

We said that where the Idea manifests itself in its proper
and independent Life, the lower form of life, namely the
sensuous, entirely disappears in it and is for ever superseded
and extinguished. The love of this lower form of life for
itself, and its interest in itself, is annihilated. But all our
wants arise only from the existence of this interest, and all

CO LECTURE IV.

our griefs from wounding it. The Life in the Idea is
forever secured against all disturbance in this respect,
for it has withdrawn itself from the sphere in which alone
such disturbance is possible. For this Life there is no
self-denial and no sacrifice ; the self which has to be
denied, and the desires which have to be sacrificed, are
withdrawn from its sight, and its love for them has dis
appeared. This self-denial and these sacrifices excite
astonishment only in him for whom their objects still
possess value, because he himself has not yet relinquished
them ; when they are once relinquished they vanish
into oblivion, and he finds that, in truth, he has lost
nothing. The stern and authoritative Law of Duty, which
presupposes vicious inclinations, and only exists that it
may scare back the first movements of desire into the dim
obscurities of thought, is abolished in the Life in the Idea.
4 Ce rfest que le premier pas qiii cofite. This higher Life
once attained, that which at first was enforced upon man
as the stern command of Duty becomes his spontaneous
rule of conduct, the end for which alone he desires to
live, his sole joy, love, and blessedness. Thus, it is
only ignorance which dreams that a profound philosophy
would recall the gloomy morality of self-crucifixion and
martyrdom. Oh no ! it invites man to cast from him
that which can afford no enjoyment, in order that the
source of infinite enjoyment may approach him, and fill
his being with its presence.

The Idea is independent, self-sufficient, self-existent; it
lives and has its being absolutely for its own sake alone;
and scorns every outward and adventitious object. Hence
it does not value and love its Life according to the
foreign standard of any result, use, or advantage which
may arise therefrom. As in the Life of the Eace the
Idea strives constantly towards absolute worth, not mere
welfare, worth in itself, not mere deserving ; so when
it nourishes the individual life of man it is wholly

THE LIFE ACCORDING TO REASON. 61

.satisfied with this worth, without demanding any ulterior
results. The uncertainty of such results can thus never
cloud its inward brightness, nor the actual want of them
cause it grief; for it has never counted upon outward
consequences, but on the contrary has resigned them
along with every other desire of sense. How could sorrow,
pain, or disturbance ever enter within the circle of a Life
thus strictly comprehended within itself?

The Idea is sufficient in itself for the living, active Life
which eternally flows forth from it, without need of aught
<jlse, and without allowing aught else to exercise an in
fluence within it. The consciousness of this ever-present
independence; this self-sufficiency for infinite and un
ceasing activity; the purity of this sacred, self-fed flame,
which with steady and unvarying power burns onward
through Eternity, is the love of the Life of Reason for
itself, its self-enjoyment, its Blessedness. No idle brood
ing over its own image, no contemplation of its own
excellence ; for reflection is swallowed up in fact, and
the unresting, ever-burning flame of real Life, having
annihilated the Past and sunk it into the depths of
oblivion, leaves neither time nor opportunity again to
recall it thence.

To those in whom the Idea has never attained to life in
any form, such delineations of the Blessedness of the Life in
Idea are wholly unintelligible tones from another world ;
and since they necessarily deny the existence of any
world but their own, dreams, folly, and fanaticism.
But are we not entitled to calculate with some measure
of certainty that in cultivated society every one has in
some way or other come into contact with Ideas ?

As the Idea is simple in its nature, so is the Blessedness
of the Life in the Idea everywhere one and the same ;
namely, theimmediate consciousness of original spontaneous
Energy. It is only in relation to the objects on which
this Energy descends, and in which it reveals itself within

62 LECTURE IV.

our own sense and consciousness, that the one Idea assumes-
different forms ; which different forms are then them
selves named Ideas. I say expressly, within our own
sense and consciousness ; for only in consciousness do these
manifestations of the Idea differ from each other : beyond
that they are but one.

The first form assumed among men by this effluence
of Original Energy, that in which it has manifested
itself in the earliest Ages, and in which it is most widely
active at the present day, is its expression in outward
matter by means of our own material power; and in
this expression of the Idea the Fine Arts consist. Effluence
of Original Energy, I have said, flowing forth from
itself, and sufficient for itself, independent of experience
or observation of the external world. This latter gives
us only individual, and therefore ignoble and hateful,
conceptions, which in having attained reality in one in
stance, have attained it once too often already ; the
repetition and multiplication of which by Art would be
but an evil service to humanity. In outward matter, I
said, irrespective of its peculiarities : whether the phy
sical representation of one lost in the Idea (for this alone
is the true object of Art) stand fixed in marble, or
glow upon the canvass ; or the emotions of an inspired
soul find an utterance in music, or the feelings and
thoughts of such a mind speak themselves simply in
words; still it is the effluence of Original Energy in
outward matter.

The true Artist, in the sense in which we have spoken of
him, finds in the practice of his Art the highest enjoyment
of the Blessedness we have described; for his whole being
goes forth in free self-sufficient activity, and in the con
sciousness of this activity. And is there any one, then,
to whom every way is closed of participating in the enjov-
ment of such creations ; and so, in a certain sense, and
in a far inferior degree, becoming a joint-creator of them;

THE LIFE ACCORDING TO REASON. 63

and in this way at least perceiving that there is a delight
which immeasurably transcends every enjoyment of sense?

Another and higher form of the Idea, which however
manifests itself in fewer individuals, is the effluence of
Original Energy in the Social relations of Mankind ; the
source of all great world-embracing political Ideas ; in
life the parent of Heroism, and the author of all Law
and Order among men. What power this Idea confers
upon man, we have already seen ; with what Blessedness
it fills the soul devoted to its service, follows from what
we have said ; and whoever amongst you can think of
the world and his country, and can devote his life to
their service in forgetfulness of self, knows it from his
own experience.

A. third form of the Idea is the effluence of the Original
Energy in the building up and reconstructing the Universe
from itself, i.e. from Thought, in other words Science ; for
whenever Science has shown itself among men, it has been
essentially this which I have said, and so it must be forever.
The high enjoyment which Science ensures to her votaries
has been already described : we have but to add that
this pleasure is more spiritual, and hence higher and more
exquisite, than any other ideal enjoyment, because here the
Idea is not only present, but is felt and enjoyed as Idea,
as Thought itself rising into visibility from the depths of
its own nature ; and this is without doubt the highest
Blessedness to which mortal can attain here below. It is
only in their outward influence that the Fine Arts have
&n advantage over Science, inasmuch as they are able at
times to raise even the uninitiated to their own height
by the magic of spiritual sympathy, and so give him a
foretaste of perfect enjoyment; while the secrets of Science
are accessible only to those for whom they have ceased
to be secrets.

Finally : the most comprehensive, all-embracing and
universally comprehensible form of the Idea; the con-

C4 LECTURE IV.

scious dwelling of all activity and all life in the One, Ever-
Present Source of Life, the Godhead ; or Eeligion. He
in whom this consciousness arises with immediate and
unalterable certitude and becomes the soul of all his other
knowledge, thoughts, and feelings, he has entered into-
possession of a happiness which can never be disturbed.
Whatever he encounters, is a form of that original source
of Life which in all its forms is holy and good, and
which he cannot but love in every shape it may assume;
for it is, as he may express it in other words, the Will
of God, with which his Will is always at one. Whatever
he may be called upon to do, however difficult, mean, or
ignoble it may seem, is the living form of that fountain
of Life within him, to be the expression of which con
stitutes his greatest happiness ; it is the Will of God
with him ; and to be the instrument of God is his supreme
delight. He who ploughs his field in this Faith and
Love is infinitely more blessed than he who, without
them, removes mountains.

These are the materials for the picture of the One Life
according to Reason, to the delineation of which we have
devoted the last and the present lecture. Let us now gather
together these materials into one conception.

We said that the different forms into which the concep
tion of the One Eternal Original Energy separates itself in
our consciousness, and of which we have now indicated the
most remark able, are nevertheless, beyond this consciousness
of ours, only one and the same Energy. Wherever this
Energy enters into life in any one of these forms, it never
theless, in and by virtue of that form, embraces itself as a
Avhole, loves itself as a whole, and develops itself as a
whole, only without its own knowledge or consciousness ;
nowhere separated into parts, but always the One, un
divided Energy repeated and reproduced in different
shapes ; everywhere the One Life, the fountain of whose
Being is in itself Alone, ceaselessly producing itself anew

THE LIFE ACCORDING TO REASON. 65

in its own primitive unity, and in its movement rolling
forth the one undivided stream of Time. This One Idea,
in the form of the Fine Arts, impresses upon the life-
elements which lie around us the outward image of a
Humanity lost in the Idea, to this end only, whether
conscious of it or not, that thereby future generations,
even on awakening to life, may be surrounded by repre
sentations of what is excellent and worthy, and thus
receive a sympathetic education of the outward sense,
whereby an efficient preparation is made for the culti
vation of the inward life; and so, in this particular form,
the Idea struggles towards itself, and labours for itself,
as a Whole. Or, the same One Idea, in the form of
Religion, of the soaring of all Earthly Life and activity
towards the One, Eternal, Ever-pure, Ever-good, Ever-
blessed Source of Life, what is it ? What noble mind,
thoroughly aware of the true character of the Earthly Life,
and no longer attracted by it, could prevail upon itself to
pursue this Life without that relation to the One, Eternal,
and Abiding Life which Religion offers to its view ? And
thus it is again the One, Undivided Idea which in this
form of Religion upholds itself and its final issues, and
resolves the otherwise indissoluble contradictions between
the feelings which it inspires and the burdens which
it cannot help imposing. And so it is with every other
form of the Idea which we have named, and with every
other possible form; the elucidation of which I must
leave to your own reflection.

Thus, I said, does the One, Eternal, Self-comprehensive,
Self-existent Idea roll forth in the undivided Stream of
Time. And, I add, that in every individual moment of
this Time-stream it comprehends and pervades itself, being
throughout all Time eternally present to itself. What
takes place in it at any moment of time, is now, only
because the Past has leen, and because the Future Eternity
shall le. Nothing in this system is lost. Worlds produce

i

66 LECTURE IV.

worlds, Ages produce new Ages, which stand in contem
plation over those which have gone before, and bring
to light the secret bond of connexion which unites causes
and consequences within them. Then the grave opens,
not that which men heap together on the earth, but
the grave of impenetrable darkness wherewith the first
life has surrounded us, and from out it arises the mighty
power of Ideas, which sees in a new light the End in the
Beginning, the Perfect in the Partial ; every work how
ever humble which springs from Faith in the Eternal
is revealed, and the secret aspirations which are here
imprisoned and bound down to earth soar upwards on
unfettered pinions into a new and purer ether.

In one word: As when the breath of Spring enlivens
the air the strong and fixed ice, which but a moment
before imprisoned each atom within itself and shut up
each neighbouring atom in similar isolation, now no
longer maintains its rigid bondage but flows forth in
one free, animated, and glowing flood ; as the powers of
Nature, which were before divided, and in their separation
and antagonism produced only devastation and death, now
rush together, embrace and interpenetrate each other,
and in this free communion send forth a living balsam
upon every sense ; so does the Spirit-World not indeed
flow together at the breath of Love, for in it there is no
Winter, but there all is and abides in eternal communion
with the mighty Whole. Nothing individual can live
in itself or for itself, but all live in the Whole, and this
Whole unceasingly dies for itself in unspeakable love,
that it may rise again in new Life. This is the law of
the spiritual world: All that comes into existence falls
a sacrifice to an eternally increasing and ascending Life;
and this law constantly rules over all, without waiting
for the consent of any. Here alone lies the distinction;
whether man allow himself to be led, with the halter
round his head, like a beast, to the slaughter ; or freely

THE LIFE ACCORDING TO REASON. 67

and nobly bring his life a gift to the altar of the Eternal
Life, in the full fore-enjoyment of the new Life which is
to arise from his ashes.

So is it : under this sacred Legislation, willing or un
willing, asked or unasked, we all stand ; and it is but a
heavy fever-dream which weighs upon the brain of the
Egoist when he thinks that he may live for himself alone,
whereby he cannot change the nature of things, but only
does himself a wrong. Might there some more gladden
ing dream from out the Infinite Silence at times refresh
the slumberer in the cradle of Eternity ! might there,
from time to time, prophetic whispers fall upon his ear,
that there is a Light and a Day !

(69)

LECTURE V.

FARTHER DELINEATION OF THE THIRD AGE.

RETURNING from a digression through which we promised
ourselves additional light upon our way, we resume the
straight path of our inquiry. Let us once more cast a
glance over the purpose of this inquiry as a whole.

It is the end of the Earthly Life of the Human Race to
order all its relations with Freedom according to Reason.
To do this with Freedom, with a Freedom of which the
Eace shall be conscious, and which it shall recognise as its
own, presupposes a condition in which this Freedom had
not yet appeared ; not that the relations of the Race
have at any time not been ordered according to Reason,
for in that case there could have been no Race ; but only
that this ordering has not been accomplished ly Freedom,
but by Reason as a blind power ; that is, by Reason as
Instinct. Instinct is blind; its opposite, Freedom, must
therefore be seeing ; that is, must be a Knowledge of the
laws of Reason according to which the Race is to order its
relations by means of its own unconstrained activity and
art. In order that the Race may be able to attain to
Reason as Knowledge, and from thence to Reason as Art,
it must in the first place set itself free from the blind do
minion of Reason as Instinct. But far from having even
a wish to free itself from this constraint, Humanity can-

70 LECTURE V.

not help loving it, in so far as it rules as an unconscious
power within Humanity itself. Hence this constraint
must, in the first place, assume the form of an External
Authority, and impose itself on Humanity with outward
compulsion and power, as the foreign Instinct of a few
Individuals ; against which External Authority, Humanity
now rises in opposition and sets itself free primarily
from this External Authority itself, but, at the same time,
from Reason also in the form of Instinct; and since
Reason has not yet appeared in any other form, from
Reason altogether.

From this principle we arrived at five great and only
possible Epochs, exhausting the whole Earthly Life of the
Human Race : First, That in which human affairs are
governed by Reason as Instinct without violence or con
straint. Second, That in which this Instinct has become
weaker, and now only manifests itself in a few chosen In
dividuals, and thereby becomes an External Ruling Au
thority for all the rest. Third, That in which this Authority
is thrown off; and, with it, Reason in every shape which
it has yet assumed. Fourth, That in which Reason in the
shape of Knowledge appears among men. Fifth, That in
which Art associates itself with Knowledge, in order to
mould Human Life with a firmer and surer hand into har
mony with Knowledge, and in which the ordering of all
the relations of Man according to Reason is, by means of
this Art, freely accomplished, the object of the Earthly
Life attained, and our Race enters upon the higher spheres
of another World.

We chose for the principal subject-matter of these dis
courses the characteristics of the Third of the Epochs
above mentioned, in consequence of the opinion which we
expressed that the Present Age stands in this Third Epoch :
of the correctness or incorrectness of which opinion we
left you entirely to judge for yourselves.

This Third Epoch, as the declared foe of all blind Instinct

FARTHER DELINEATION OF THE THIRD AGE. 71

and of all Authority, takes this maxim as its motto :
Accept nothing but what is understood, that is, under
stood immediately, and by means of the previously existing
and hereditary Common Sense. Could we lay open the
true nature of this Common Sense, which the Third Epoch
assumes as the standard of all its thoughts and opinions,
we should then have a clear analysis of its whole system
of thought and opinion.

This also we have accomplished. Reason in whatever
shape it reveals itself, whether as Instinct or as Knowledge,
always necessarily embraces the Life of the Race as a Race ;
Reason being thrown off and extinguished, nothing re
mains but the mere individual, personal life. Hence in
the Third Age, which has set itself free from Reason, there
is nothing remaining but this latter life ; nothing, wherever
the Age has thoroughly manifested itself and arrived at
clearness and consistency, except pure, naked Egoism ; and
hence it naturally follows that the inborn and established
Common Sense of the Third Age can be nothing else, and
can contain nothing else, than the wisdom which provides
for its personal well-being.

The means of the support and well-being of the personal
life can only be discovered by Experience, since man has no
direct guide thereto, either in an animal instinct such as
the beasts possess ; or in Reason which has for its object
only the Life of the Race : and hence the assumption of
Experience as the only source of knowledge is a charac
teristic trait of such an Age.

From this principle there arise further those views of
Knowledge, of Art, of the Social Relations of Men, of
Morality, and of Religion, which we have in like manner
adduced as prevailing characteristics of such an Age.

In one word: the permanent and fundamental peculiarity
and characteristic of such an Age is this, that every
genuine product of it thinks and does all that he actually
thinks arid does solely for himself and for his own peculiar

72 LECTURE V.

advantage; just as the opposite principle, that of a Life
according to Reason, consists herein, that each Individual
ought to devote his own personal life to the Life of the
Race ; or in other words, as it afterwards appeared that
the form in which this Life of the Race enters into con
sciousness and becomes an active power in the life of the
Individual is called Idea, that each Individual ought
to place his personal life, and power, and all enjoyment
thereof, in Ideas. In order to make clearer our farther
characterization of the Third Age, by contrasting it with
the Life according to Reason, we have in our last two
lectures entered upon a delineation of this Life, and with
respect to that matter, I have now only to add the follow
ing remarks :

In the first place: Herein, namely, in the distinction
which we have pointed out between a life devoted to mere
personal well-being, and a life devoted to the Idea, lies
the difference between the Life opposed to Reason and the
Life according to Reason ; and it is of no importance here
whether, in the latter case, the Idea reveal itself in the
obscurity of mere Instinct, as in the First Epoch ; or be
imposed by External Authority, as in the Second; or gtand
bright and clear in the fulness of Knowledge, as in the
Fourth ; or rule in the equally clear realization of Art, as
in the Fifth ; and in this respect the Third Age does not
stand opposed to any one of the others in particular ; but,
as being essentially and throughout contrary to Reason,
it stands opposed to all other Time, as essentially and in
substance in accordance with Reason though from Age
to Age under various forms.

In the particular manifestations of the Idea, and its mode
of working, which we have adduced in our last two lectures,
it appears only in the form of Instinct ; for we have there
described only the Time which precedes the Third Age,
which indeed first makes the existence of that Age possible,
and when Time in general has not yet advanced to the

FARTHER DELINEATION OF THE THIRD AGE. 73

manifestation of the Idea in clear consciousness. Let this
distinction be henceforth kept in view to prevent mis
understanding.

Now should any one reject and repudiate our delineation
of a mode of thought in which everything is dedicated to
Ideas, as well as this mode of thought itself; should fret
over it, attempt to decry it, and represent it as unnatural,
(always to himself of course) and as a foolish fanaticism ;
against such a repudiation we can do nothing, and would
do nothing if we could. The more frequently, loudly, and
openly this is done, the more thoroughly is there developed,
and the more quickly will pass away a mode of thought
through which humanity must necessarily pass; and, I may
add, the more clearly does it appear that I have hit my
mark. But I wish that this repudiation were honestly,
openly, and unequivocally avowed ; and in so far as it lies
with me, I would remove every pretence behind which such
a repudiation can take shelter while something else seems
to occupy its place. In this way I desire to do everything
and am conscious of having hitherto done everything in my
power to take away the pretext that these discourses have
not been thoroughly understood; and that if they were they
would be at once assented to. These discourses still exist
precisely as they were delivered: the meaning of the language,
the sequence of thought, the definition of each individual
thought by other thoughts, upon which the clearness of a
discourse depends, all these things have their well-defined
rules ; and it may still be determined whether these rules
have been followed; and I, for my own part, believe that I
have said nothing but that precisely which I intended to say.
A discourse, indeed, which undertakes really to say some
thing must be heard from beginning to end and in all its
parts. But when a man, let him hear as often as he will, at
each new hearing still misconceives what is said; in him
there is no understanding at all, but only some empty husks
of phraseology learned by rote, like chaff upon the granary

1e

74 LECTURE V.

floor. To make this clear by two examples selected at
random : Should some one, for instance, with his head full
of the unhappy, newly invented, confusion of language
according to which every thought may, by a pleasant
change of expression, be named Idea, and in which there
is no objection to speaking of the idea of a chair or a
bench ; should such an one wonder how so much im
portance is attached to the dedication of Life to Ideas,
and how in this can be placed the characteristic dis
tinction between two opposite classes of men, whereas
everything which enters the mind of any human being
is Idea; such an one has understood nothing at all of
what we have hitherto said; but without any fault of ours.
For we have not failed strictly to discriminate between
Conceptions which, by means of Experience, find their way
into the understanding of the mere sensuous man ; and
Ideas which, independent of all Experience, kindle into
self-sustaining life in those who are inspired by them.

Or should any one be unable to get over a certain catch
word, brought into circulation, with others of the same kind
of which it would be quite as difficult to give any rational
account, by some conceited bel esprit, the word Individu
ality fair, lovely Individuality ! and with this under
standing of the word, which may indeed be true in one
sense, find himself unable to reconcile our unconditional
rejection of all Individuality ; then such an one has not
understood that by Individuality we mean only the per
sonal, sensuous existence of the Individual, which is the true
meaning of the word ; and by no means deny, but rather
expressly teach and inculcate, that the One Eternal Idea
assumes a new and hitherto unknown form in each In
dividual in whom it comes to Life, and this by its own
power and under its own legislation, and quite independ
ently of physical nature : consequently in no way deter
mined thereto by the sensuous Individuality, but on the
contrary abolishing such Individuality altogether, and of

FARTHER DELINEATION OF THE THIRD AGE. 75

itself alone moulding the Ideal Individuality, or, as it
may be more properly called, Originality.

Finally, in this connexion let us add the following : We
by no means assume here the strict tone and compulsive
form of demonstration ; but, in addressing open and unpre-
judiced minds, we have limited ourselves to the modest style
of popular lectures, and to the moderate desire of holding
intercourse with such minds in a convenient and becoming
way. But should there be some one who loves to examine
and judge upon more special grounds, and wishes to do
so here ; then let it not be conceald from him that, not
withstanding our apparent superficiality, we have yet
surrounded him with a chain of argument, which he
may well consider and bethink himself what link of it
he shall first attempt to break. Should he say, All
this devotion of Life to the realization of an Idea is a
mere chimera to which we ourselves have given birth;
then we have proved to him historically, that at all times
there have been men who have led this Life in the Idea,
and that all things great and good which now exist in the
world, are the products of this Life. Or should he say,
* Even if this has been so, this way of Life is an old folly and
superstition, and our present enlightened Age is far above
it; then we have shown that since he himself cannot re
frain from admiring and reverencing, even against his will,
such a mode of Life, there must lie at the bottom of this
admiration and reverence a principle to this effect, that
the personal life ought to be dedicated to the Idea; and thus,
by his own confession, such a mode of Life is approved by
the voice of Reason immediately audible within us, and
therefore is no superstition. Both these positions being
cut off, there would remain no other course for him but
to declare boldly that he has never discovered in him
self any such specific feeling as that of admiration or
reverence, and that it has never happened to him
to reverence or respect anything; and in this case he

LECTURE V.

would have entirely got rid of our premises and therefore
of all their consequences; and we should then be perfectly
satisfied with him.

In the extended picture of the Third Age which it is now
my duty to present to you, I ought, perhaps, in the opinion
of most of those who may have considered the matter,
to proceed to a description of the relation of the Present
Age to the several forms of the One Idea which I have
set forth in the last lecture; and this plan I have
approximately followed in the general characterization
of the Age which is contained in the second lecture.

But I have already stated, and I now repeat, that the
fundamental maxim of this Age is to accept nothing but
that which it can understand : the point upon which it
takes its stand is thus a conception. It has also been already
shown that it does not attain the Epochal character, and
assume the rank of a separate Age, so long as it only
blindly follows this maxim ; but that it can then only be
clearly understood when it recognises itself in this
maxim, and accepts it as the Highest. Hence the dis
tinctive and peculiar characteristic of this Age is this
notion of conception, and it bears the/orm of Knowledge ;
only the empty form, indeed, since that from which
alone Knowledge derives its value, the Idea, is wholly
wanting here. Hence, in order to get at the root of this
Age, we must first speak of its system of Knowledge. In
our description of this system, its views of the fundamen
tal forms of the Idea, as necessary parts of the system
itself, must likewise come into view.

In order to give you, in this place, a still more compre
hensive glance of what you have now to expect, I add the
following ground of distinction, to which I have not yet
adverted. The maxim of the Age is to accept nothing but
that which it can understand, understand, that is to say,
through the mere empirical conceptions of Experience ;

FARTHER DELINEATION OF THE THIRD AGE. 77

and, therefore, wherever the Age can establish itself in suffi
cient power and consistency, it sets up this maxim as its
scientific principle, and by it estimates and judges every
acquisition of knowledge. But it cannot fail that others,
not so entirely under the rule of the prevailing spirit, but
without having yet descried the morning-dawn of the
new Age, must feel the infinite emptiness and platitude
of such a maxim ; and then, imagining that to get at
the True we have only to reverse the False, are disposed
to place all wisdom in the Incomprehensible and the
Unintelligible. But since these too, with their whole
mode of thinking, arise out of the Age, and are nothing
but its reaction against itself; so, notwithstanding the
antagonism of their principles, they as well as the others
are products of the Age, and under other conditions
would have been but the residue of a former Time ; and
he who would comprehend the Knowledge of the Age,
must bring forward and investigate both principles :
as we shall do.

There is now only one more general remark with which
I must preface our delineation, namely, the following :
Whether that which we call the Third Age is precisely
our own, and whether the phenomena which I shall de
rive by strict deduction from the principle of this Age,
are those which now exist before our eyes ; on this
point I have more than once said I leave you to form
your own judgment. But in case any one should desire
to pass such a judgment, it is necessary to guard him
against such reasoning as the following : Well, suppose
that it cannot be denied that this is the case at present,
yet it is by no means a feature peculiar to our Age, but
may always have been so. With this view, when speak
ing of any phenomena of which this might by possibility
be said, I shall call to your recollection Ages in which it
was otherwise than it is now.

78 LECTURE V.

We commence the delineation of the scientific condition
of the Third Age, by a description of its/own, that is, of
the fixed and essential peculiarities which permeate its
whole existence ; and we trace these peculiarities in this
way :

When the Idea enters into life it creates an inexhaustible
power and energy, and only from the Idea can such energy
arise: an Age without the Idea must therefore be a weak
and powerless Age ; and all it does, all wherein it shows
any sign of life, is accomplished in a languid and sickly
manner, without any visible manifestation of energy.
And, with respect to its pursuits, since we are now in par
ticular discoursing of Knowledge, it is neither powerfully
drawn towards any one subject, nor does it thoroughly pene
trate any ; but, impelled by a momentary caprice or other
passion, one day to this and another day to that subject, it
satisfies itself with glancing at some superficial Appearance,
instead of penetrating to the inmost Truth. In its
opinions on these subjects, such an Age is dragged here
and there by the blind influence of association, consistent
iu nothing but in this universal superficiality and fickle
ness; and in its first principle, that in this levity true
wisdom consists. Not so with him who is animated by
Knowledge in the form of the Idea. It has arisen
upon him in one particular point of enquiry, and to
this one point it holds his whole life and all its powers
enchained, until it becomes perfectly clear to him and
sheds forth a new light on the entire Universe of
Thought. That such men have formerly existed, and
that Knowledge has not always been prosecuted in such
a shallow and feeble manner as that in which the Third Ao-e

O

must necessarily pursue it, is proved at least by the dis
covery of Mathematics among the ancients. Finally, in its
communication of thought, whether in speech or in writing,
the same mediocrity and feebleness are apparent. These
communications never show forth an organic whole, with

FARTHER DELINEATION OF THE THIRD AGE. 79

all its parts proceeding from, and referred back to, one
central point; but they rather resemble a cloud of sand
in which each grain is a whole to itself, and which is
only held together by the inconstant wind. It seems a
master-stroke of invention in such an Age to hit upon
the mode of communicating knowledge after the order
of the letters of the alphabet. Hence its representa
tions can never possess clearness ; the want of which is
supplied by a tiresome perspicacity amounting to noth
ing more than frequent repetition of the same thing.
Wherever this Age attains to its full efficiency, this mode
of communication even comes to understand itself and
to represent itself as worthy of imitation ; so that from
thenceforward elegance is placed in neither giving the
reader the trouble of thinking for himself, nor in any way
calling forth his own independent activity, which indeed
is considered obtrusive ; and the classical writings of
the Age are those which every one may read without
preparation, and peruse, and lay aside, and still remain
exactly what he was before. Not so he who has Ideas to com
municate and who is moved by Ideas to such communica
tion. Not he himself speaks, but the Idea speaks, or writes,
in him with indwelling power; and that only is a good
-discourse wherein the speaker does not so much declare the
thought, as the thought declares itself by the organ of the
speaker. That such discourses have been delivered, at least
in former times, and that it has not always been the fashion
to avoid ,arousing independent thought in the mind of the
hearer or~reader, is proved by the writings which are left
to us of classical antiquity ; the study of which, indeed,
and of the languages in which they are written, will be
discountenanced and discarded by the Third Age wherever
it acts consequentially, in order that its own produc
tions alone may be held in honour and esteem.

The Idea, and the Idea only, fills, satisfies, and blesses
the mind : an Age without the Idea must therefore neces-

80 LECTURE V.

sarily suffer from the consciousness of unsatisfied vacuity,
which manifests itself in an infinite, unappeasable, con
stantly recurring weariness : it must be wearied as well
as wearisome. In this unpleasant state of feeling it
grasps eagerly at that which seems its only remedy,
namely, Wit ; either for its own gratification, or else to
break, from time to time, the weariness which it is con
scious of producing in others, and thus, in the long deserts
of its seriousness, to sow here and there some grain of
sport. This design must indeed of necessity fail, for he
only is capable of Wit who is susceptible of Ideas.

Wit is the communication of profound Truth, that is,
of Truth belonging to the region of Ideas, in its most direct
and intuitive aspect. In its most direct and intuitive
aspect, I say; and in this respect Wit is the opposite of
the communication of the same Truth in a chain of con
secutive reasoning. When, for example, the philosopher
separates an Idea, step by step, into its individual com
ponent parts ; interprets each of these separate parts, one
after the other, by means of some other conception which
limits and defines it, and pursues this course until he has
exhausted the whole Idea ; then he proceeds in the way
of methodical communication and proves indirectly the
truth of his Idea. Should it happen, however, that he
can at last encompass the whole Idea in its absolute
unity with one single light-beam which shall, as with
a lightning flash, illumine and reveal it, and penetrate
each intelligent hearer or reader, so that he must at once
exclaim, Yes, truly, so is it; now I see it at one glance/
then is this the representation of the Idea in question
in its most direct and intuitive aspect, or its expression
by Wit ; and in such a case by direct or positive Wit.
Again, Truth may also be proved indirectly, by showing
the folly and error of its opposite ; and when this is done,
not by methodical and gradual exposition, but in im
mediate and intuitive clearness, then this is indirect,

FARTHER DELINEATION OF THE THIRD AGE. 81

and, in relation to the Idea, negative Wit ; exciting
laughter in those to whom it is addressed : it is Wit as
the source of the Ridiculous ; for Error in its direct and
intuitive aspect is essentially ridiculous.

What this Age attempts to reach is not Wit in the
first sense, of which even its theories are silent, but in
the second, namely, in the form of derision, and as ex
citing laughter; laughter being a means pointed out
by the instinct of Nature itself, for refreshing the mind
exhausted by long-continued weariness, and in some
measure enlivening its stagnation by the stirring emotion
which it communicates. But even in this shape Wit
remains necessarily inaccessible to this Age, for in order
freely to perceive and represent Error in direct and
self-evident clearness it is necessary to be oneself superior
to Error. This Age has no Wit ; but rather it is often
the object of Wit, and that most frequently when, in its
own estimation, it is most witty ; i.e. it then manifests
to the intelligent observer, in its own person, Folly and
Error in their highest perfection ; but without the slightest
suspicion of doing so. He who, in order to paint the
Age to the life, has put things into its mouth to which
it often unexpectedly gives utterance with the greatest
possible gravity, he may securely call himself a Wit.

How then does the Third Age acquire its measure of the
Ridiculous, and the kind of scoffing irony which serves it in
place of Wit? Thus: it sets it down as indisputable that
its Truth is the right Truth ; and whatever is contrary to
that must be false. Should any one then take up the op
posite position he is of course in error, which is absurd :
and hereupon it shows, in striking examples, how entirely
different the opposite view is from its own, and that in no
single point can they coalesce ; which indeed may be true.
This once laughed at, it readily finds those who will join
the laugh, if it only apply to the right quarter. Assuming
a scientific form, according to established custom, this

I

82 LECTURE V.

principle is soon understood and dogmatically announced;
and it now appears as an axiom to this effect, that
Ridicule is the touchstone of truth and consequently that
anything may be at once recognised as false, without
farther proof, if a jest can be raised at its expense, in
the manner indicated above.

Observe the immense advantages which an Age ac
quires through this, at first sight, insignificant discovery.
In the first place, it is by this means established in secure
possession of its own wisdom ; for the Age will always
be careful not to apply this test of the Ridiculous to its
own Knowledge, nor to join in the laugh should others
so apply it, an application which is not at all impossible.
It is thus spared the trouble of disproving what is brought
against it, and has no more to do than to show how far
this is from agreement with its own views, and from
having hit the mark of its opinion ; thus making its
opponents ridiculous, and, should it bring ill-humour in
its train, suspected and even hated. Finally, this
laughter is in itself a pleasant and healthy recreation,
by which the most oppressive ennui may frequently be
dispelled.

No ! I speak to all here present without exception, in
whom I believe that I speak not to members of the Third
Age, with whom indeed I never wish to speak, nor to mem
bers of any other Age, but of whom I suppose that they
are with myself elevated above all Time, and are now looking
down on this particular portion of it : no, I say, "Wit is
a godlike spark, and never condescends to Folly. It dwells
eternally with the Idea, and never quits its fellowship. In
its first shape, it is the wonderful light-conductor in the
Spiritual World, by which Wisdom spreads from the point
on which she first alights until she reach and embrace
all other points. In its second shape, it is the avenging
lightning of the Idea, which seeks out every folly, even
in the midst of its disciples, and surely .strikes it to the

FARTHER DELINEATION OF THE THIRD AGE. 83

ground. Whether hurled by the hand of an individual
with deliberate aim, or not so directed, it still, even in
the latter case, reaches its object with the sure course
of concealed and inevitable fate. Like the suitors of
Penelope, who, when already beset with impending de
struction, raved through the dim palace-halls of Ithaca,
with frenzied laughter mocking their lugubrious aspects;
so do these laugh with insensate mirth, for in their laugh
ter the Eternal Wit of the World-Spirit laughs at them.
We shall not grudge them this enjoyment, and we shall
be careful not to take the bandage from their eyes.

(85 )

LECTURE VI.

SCIENTIFIC CONDITION OF THE THIRD AGE.

THE principle of the Third Age, that Age which we have
undertaken to describe, is now sufficiently apparent :
this, namely, to accept nothing whatever but that which it
understands. The Comprehensible is its highest Idea; it is
thus Scientific in its form ; and any complete delineation
of it must commence with a description of its Scientific
position, because it here becomes most clear and intel
ligible to itself; and from this, its best defined point, all
its other characteristics may most readily be deduced.

In our last lecture, we described this Scientific position
in the first place as regards its form, that is, by means
of certain general and fundamental peculiarities which are
visible in all its phenomena, and which spring directly
from its essential characteristic its incapacity for the Idea.
The Idea, we said, was the source of all power ; this Age
must therefore necessarily be feeble and powerless : the
Idea was the source of a perennial satisfaction ; this Age
must therefore be conscious of an emptiness which it en
deavours to supply by means of Wit, although this is
unattainable by it. To-day we desire to present you
with a concise description of this Scientific position itself
as 4 it actually exists.

In the first place, let me remark what I. have already
mentioned in passing on a previous occasion, but here de-

86 LECTURE VI.

sire to enforce, and for the first time to apply : Every
possible Age strives to encompass and pervade the whole
Race ; and only in so far as it succeeds in doing this does
it manifest the true character of an Age, since besides
this Life of the Race there is nothing remaining but
the phenomena of individual life.

So also the Third Age. It is in its nature an Age of
Knowledge ; and it must therefore labour and strive to
raise all Mankind to this position. To this Age, Un
derstanding, as the highest and decisive tribunal, pos
sesses a value in itself; and indeed the highest value,
determining all other value : hence men are esteemed
only in so far as they readily receive or studiously acquire
the Conceptions of the Understanding, and easily apply
and clearly discriminate among them ; and all the efforts
of the Age in the Culture of Mankind must be directed
to this end. It matters not that individual voices may
be heard from time to time exclaiming Act ! act ! that
is the business : what shall mere knowledge avail us ?
for either by such action is meant only another form of
learning ; or else those voices are but the reaction against
itself of an Age dissatisfied with its own emptiness, of which
we have already made mention in our last lecture : and
by such a reaction this Age, in all its varied manifestations,
is usually accompanied. In judging of this point, the
decisive test is the Education which an Age bestows on the
children of all classes, but particularly on those of the
people. Is it found that, among all classes, the aim of
such Education is that children should know something ;
and that, in particular among the people, the main ob
ject is that they should be enabled to read with facility,
and, so far as it may be attainable, to write also ; and
generally, that they should acquire the Knowledge pe
culiar to the class on whom their Education devolves :
as for example, where that Education is entrusted to
the clerical body, that they should be well versed in

SCIENTIFIC CONDITION OF THE THIRD AGE. 87

a systematic and tabular code of dogmatics under the
name of a catechism ; is this, I say, found to be so? then
experience makes good that which we have said. Should
other maxims of popular Education here and there make
their appearance, and even be in part carried out, this is
but the reaction : the former is the rule, without which
indeed no reaction could take place.

It is impossible that these influences, directed upon the
Age on all sides and from every quarter, should entirely fail
of their purpose. Every individual, even the most insigni
ficant and least cultivated, will in some measure acquire an
independent consciousness and knowledge of himself ; that
is, since the enlightenment of the Age is throughout ne
gative, he will by means of reflection raise himself above
something which has been taught him in his youth, and will
no longer be restrained by many things which before re
strained him. And thus does man recognise himself as
Man, attain to independent thought, and the whole Age
transforms itself into a fixed camp of Formal Knowledge,
in which, indeed, many and various degrees of rank are
to be found, but where each brings his contribution to the
common armoury.

I trust that no one here will so far misunderstand what I
have said, as to suppose that I unconditionally condemn the
characteristics of this Age which we have now adduced,
and thereby attach myself to a party which has already
appeared in many shapes, and lately in that of Philosophy
also, and which in every shape it has assumed has rightly
borne the name of Obscuranti. Were the Knowledge of
the Third Age Knowledge of the right sort, it should in
that case deserve no blame for its striving to reach all
men of every class. Bather do those representatives of
the Age, who desire to retain their wisdom to themselves,
and will not allow it to be spread forth among the
masses, only exhibit their inconsistency On a new side.
The Age which succeeds the Third, that of True Know-

88 LECTURE VI.

ledge, w iH also strive to embrace all men, for if the
Laws of Reason are to be made manifest by Art through
out the whole Race, every individual of the Race must
possess at least a certain amount of knowledge of these
Laws, since each individual must uphold, by his own
private and individual conduct, the outward and public
dominion of Reason in the Race, which again reacts in aid
of individual effort. All without exception must sooner
or later attain to Reason as Knowledge; therefore all
without exception must first be set free from the blind
faith in Authority. To accomplish this is the object of
the Third Age, and in this it does well.

Understanding, I said, for its own sake possesses a value
to this Age, and indeed the highest value, determining
all other value ; and upon it is made to depend the
dignity and worth of all personality. It is therefore an
honour in the estimation of this Age, simply to have
thought for oneself, provided only that something new
has been brought forward, even although this originality
may be merely an obvious perversion of Truth. This
Age will never pronounce a final judgment; and by this
judgment arrive at ultimate Truth, where it might then
remain steadfast and for ever : it is too faint-hearted
to do this ; it only desires a treasury of materials for
opinion, among which it may have the power of choice,
should it at any time desire to form a judgment;
and therefore every one is welcomed who can increase this
store. Thus it happens that individuals, not only without
shame, but even with a certain self-satisfaction, step forth
and proclaim See, here is my opinion ; this is the way in
which I, for my part, conceive of this matter : for the rest
I willingly allow that others may think quite differently of
it/ and that these individuals even give themselves credit
for an amiable modesty of spirit ; whereas, in the truly
reasonable mode of thought, it is the greatest arrogance
to suppose that our personal opinion is of any essential

SCIENTIFIC CONDITION OF THE THIRD AGE. 89

value, and that any one can be interested in knowing how
we, important personages as we are, look upon the matter;
and before the tribunal of this mode of thought no one has
a right to open his mouth before he is thoroughly satisfied
that his speech shall be not of himself, but the utterance
of the Pure Reason within him ; and that therefore every
one who comprehends him, and desires to maintain the
rank of a reasonable being, will recognise his utterance
as true and genuine.

Understanding, for its own sake, possesses the highest
value for this Age: this Understanding has therefore
supreme Authority, and becomes the first and primitive
Authority, limited by no other. Hence arises the all-
ruling idea of Intellectual Freedom, freedom of Scien
tific judgment and of public opinion. Let it be made
manifest to a true son of this Age that what he has
produced is absurd, ridiculous, immoral, and corrupt :
That is nothing/ he replies ; I have thought it, of
my own self I have created it, and thought of itself is
always some merit for it costs some labour ; and man
must be at liberty to think what he pleases : and, truly,
against this one can have nothing further to say. Let it
be shown to another that he is ignorant of the very first
principle of an Art or a Science upon the results of which
he has pronounced at great length, and that the whole do
main to which it belongs is quite beyond his knowledge :
Am I thereby tacitly to understand, he replies, that I
ought not to have exercised my judgment under these cir
cumstances? Surely those who say this have no conception
of the Freedom of Judgment which belongs of right to
men of learning. If a man were in every case to study
and understand that upon which he pronounces a judg
ment the unconditional Liberty of Thought would thereby
be much limited and circumscribed ; and there would
be found exceedingly few who could venture to pronounce
an opinion ; whereas the Freedom of Judgment consists

m

90 LECTURE VI.

in this, that every man may judge of all things whether
he understands them or not! Has any one, in the
circle of a few friends perhaps, allowed an assertion to
escape him which it may be supposed he would not
willingly see published to the world ? In a week or
two the printing press is at work to announce the re
markable fact to the world and to posterity. The
journals take a part on one side and on the other, carefully
investigating and inquiring whether the assertion was
actually made or not, before whom was it made, what
were the exact words employed, and under what con
ditions the offender may be dismissed in the meantime
with a partial punishment, or else be irretrievably con
demned. He must stand the brunt ; and it will be well
for him if, at the end of a few years, he find his business
forgotten in some new affair. Let no man smile at this;
for thereby he will only show that he has no sense of the
high value of Public Opinion. But should any one who is
summoned before the tribunal of this Public Opinion dare
to despise its authority, then total perplexity takes posses
sion of the minds of its representatives, and to the end of
their lives they gaze in profound astonishment at the man
who has had courage sufficient to scorn their jurisdiction.
They have of a truth thought this which they say; at
least they have assumed the air of having thought it. How
then can any reasonable man refuse to pay them that
respectful submission which is their due ?

The right to raise itself in thought to the conception of
the Laws of Reason, free from all constraint of outward
authority, is indeed the highest, inalienable right of Hu
manity : it is the unchangeable vocation of the Earthly
Life of the Race. But no man has a right to wander
recklessly about in the empty domain of unsettled Opinion;
for such a course is directly opposed to the distinctive
character of Humanity, i.e. to Reason. Neither would any
Age have such a right, were it not that this unsettled

SCIENTIFIC CONDITION OF THE THIRD AGE. 91

hovering between authority and mere emptiness is a neces
sary step in the progress of our Race, whereby it may first
be set free from blind constraint, and then be impelled to
wards Knowledge by the oppressive sense of its own vacuity.
Let these men, then, with their pretensions about unlimited
Freedom of Thought and unrestrained Public Opinion,
make what demands they please ; and let no man hinder
them from degrading themselves as far, and making
themselves as ridiculous, as they please ; this must be
permitted them. And who should desire to hinder them?
Not the State, at least no State that understands its
own interest. The State has charge of watching over
the outward actions of its citizens, and ordering these
actions by means of imperative laws which, if they are
rightly adapted to the nation and imposed without dis
tinction upon all, must, without danger of failure, secure
and maintain the order which is contemplated. The
opinions of the citizens are not actions ; let these opi
nions be even dangerous, still if crime is sure of its
threatened punishment it will be suppressed despite of
opinion. The State may either attempt to change the
opinions of its citizens for its own advantage : and in
this case it partly undertakes a thing which it cannot
accomplish, and partly shows that its laws are not adapted
to the existing condition of the nation to which this
system of opinion belongs ; or, that the governing power
is inadequate, and, being unable to trust to its own re
sources, needs the aid of a foreign power which yet it can
not incorporate with itself. Or, the State may attempt,
perhaps with the purest intentions, and from the warmest
zeal on the part of its administrators for the advancement
of the dominion of Reason, it may attempt to combat
the prevailing opinions by means of external power; and
in this case it undertakes a thing in which it can never
succeed, for all men feel that it then takes the form of
injustice, and the persecuted opinion, being thus to a cer-

92 LECTURE VI.

tain extent put in the right, gains new friends by the
injustice which it suffers, and by this conviction of the
justice of its cause acquires a stronger power of opposition;
and the matter ends by the State being obliged to yield,
whereby it once more shows only its own weakness. In like
manner, neither will the few worshippers of True Knowledge
hinder these advocates of unrestricted license. They have
no power to do so; and if they had, they would not desire
to use it. Their weapons are no other than the forces
of Reason ; their wishes for the world no other than that
these forces should make their way by means of free con
viction. Whatever they say is to be clearly understood
as true and as alone true : nothing they say is to be
learned by rote and accepted in faith and trust; for then
would Humanity be only brought back again to bondage,
and subjected to a new authority; and instead of the de
sired progress there would be only a retreat in a new
direction. Could these men comprehend it, they would no
doubt acknowledge its truth; for we do not charge them
with the baseness which disavows its own conviction of
better things. But precisely because they do not compre
hend it they are what they are ; and so must they remain
so long as they do not comprehend it : since they are
once for all what they are, it is impossible for them to
become anything else ; and they must be endured, as
integral parts of an unchangeable and necessary order of
things.

This mode of thought, I said before, will strive to spread
itself universally; and in certain masses of the Human Race
it will succeed in this, and with them the whole Age will
become a camp of mere Formal Knowledge. Who rules in
this camp, and leads on its armies ? * Clearly, jt wjlL-be
answered. * the Heroes of the Age; the champions in whom
the Spirit of the Time has most gloriously revealed itself.*
But who are these, and by what marks are they to be re
cognised ? Perchance by the importance of the researches

SCIENTIFIC CONDITION OF THE THIRD AGE. 93

which they set on foot, or the truth which radiates from
their doctrines, and enlightens all men ? How were that
possible, when the Age passes no judgment whatever upon
the importance or truth of anything, but only collects a
store of opinions as materials for a future judgment ? Thus
he who only announces an opinion, and thereby brings his
contribution to the great magazine of general speculation,
in this way qualifies himself to be a leader of the host. But,
as we have already observed, there is no preeminence to be
attained in this Age ; for every one who breathes its at
mosphere, has at one time or another swelled the general
store of opinion by producing some conception of his own.
Unfortunately a disaster often befalls this fertile capacity
of thought; this, namely, that the opinion which bears
universal sway in the evening is in the morning forgotten
by all the world, even by its own prolific inventor; and so
this new contribution to the treasures of the Age vanishes
into thin air. But should a method be discovered by which
this fact of an opinion having been announced, as well as
the opinion itself in so far as this latter may be possible,
should be firmly established and protected against the next
morning s breeze, so that all who are blessed with sound
eyesight might be distinctly advertised that an opinion had
been ushered into the world, and the thinker himself be
provided with a safeguard against forgetting what he has
thought ; if, for example, the arts of Writing and Print
ing were discovered then should the Age be delivered
from its perplexity. Then he whose opinions stood perma
nently recorded by means of ink and paper should belong
to the Heroes of the Age, the sublime phalanx of whom
constitutes a community of votaries of Knowledge, or, as
they better love to be called, their whole being resting
only on empiricism, a Republic of Letters.

In this view the Age is by no means disturbed by the
consideration that the admission into this glorious senate of
humankind is usually effected through the nearest printer,

94 LECTURE VI.

whose knowledge of what he prints is even less than that
of the writer as to what he writes, and whose only desire
is to exchange his own printed paper for that of others.

In this way the Republic of Letters is brought together.
By means of the printing press it is separated from the
masses who do not print anything, and whose position
in the camp of Formal Knowledge is that of Readers
only. Hence arise new relations and connexions between
these two principal sections of the camp of Formal
Knowledge.

The first purpose of printing is obviously to announce
publicly to all the world the independence of mind possessed
by the Author; from this arises, in Science, a straining after
new or seemingly new opinions; and in Literature, a strug
gling after new forms. He who has attained this end, gains
the favour of his Reader, whether or not, in the one case,
his opinion\)Q true; or, in the other, his form be beautiful.
But when the printing press has thoroughly come into
play even this novelty is laid aside, and mere printing,
for its own sake alone, becomes a merit ; and then
arises, in Science, the tribe of compilers, who give to the
world what has been given to it a hundred times be
fore, only with some slight transposition of its parts ; and
in Literature, the fashionable author, who continues to
repeat a form which has already been so long employed
by others or by himself, that at last no man can dis
cover anything good in it.

This stream of Literature now flows forth, constantly re
newing itself; each new tide displacing its forerunner; so
that the purpose originally contemplated in printing is frus
trated, and the hope of immortality by means of the press
destroyed. It matters not to have brought forth one s opi
nion in open print, unless one also possess the art to con
tinue so to do unceasingly : for all that is Past is soon
forgotten. Who is there that shall bear it in memory?
Not the Author as such : for since each strives after

SCIENTIFIC CONDITION OF THE THIRD AGE. 95

something new, no one listens to another, but each goes
his own way, and promulgates his own conceptions.
Not the Reader : for he, glad to be done with the old,
flies to the newest comers, in choosing among whom he
is for the most part guided by mere chance. In these
circumstances no one who commits his lucubrations to
the press, can be sure that any one, except himself and
his printer, shall know anything of the matter. Hence
it becomes indispensably necessary to set on foot and
establish some public and general record or memorial
of Literature. Such are the literary Journals and Mag
azines, which once more make known what it is which
the Author has made known, and by means of which an
Author is enabled to repeat, even after the lapse of half a
year, what he has said already; and a similar opportunity
is afforded to the reading public to learn what he has
said, if they read the Journals. But it would not accord
with the dignity of the authors of these publications, and
would place them too far below other writers, if they only
conveyed this intelligence of the thoughts of others; they
must therefore, while reporting their information, also as
sert their own independence by discussing these thoughts
and announcing their own opinion thereon ; the leading
maxims in this business being the following : that the
Reviewer shall always find something to censure ; and
that he knows everything better than the original Author.
With such writings as commonly appear this is of
little moment ; for it is no great misfortune that some
thing which is bad at first should be made worse by
the new treatment of the Reviewer. Writings which
really deserve to see the light, whether in the depart
ment of Science or that of Literature, are ever the
expression of a Life wholly devoted to the Idea in some
new and original form ; and until such writings have
seized upon the Age, and penetrated it, and fashioned
it after their qwn thought, no judgment of them is

96 LECTURE VI.

possible : and therefore it is obvious that no thorough
and comprehensive Review of such works, even by the
ablest critic, can be produced in a half or even in a
whole year. It is of course understood that the ordi
nary critics do not make this distinction, but unhesitat
ingly seize upon all that comes under their notice without
discrimination; and also that the same judgment is pro
nounced upon truly original works, as upon the most
thoroughly worthless productions. But even this fault is
no misfortune except to themselves ; for nothing really
good is lost in the stream of Time : how long soever
it may lie defamed, misunderstood, and disregarded, the
day at length arrives when it breaks its way through such
hindrances and comes forth into light. But any one who
should feel aggrieved by such perverted views of his
writings, who should vex himself at such attacks, in
stead of compassionately laughing at them, would only
show thereby that his opponent had a certain amount
of truth on his side, that his own individual personality
had not yet wholly disappeared in the Idea, and in
the Knowledge and Love of Truth ; that therefore this
personal feeling may indeed have shown itself in his work,
and that the more offensively, the purer the expression of
the Idea with which it is associated : and such an one
receives thereby the most urgent and impressive summons
to retire within his own soul and to purify himself. Do
they regard this matter falsely ? thinks he who is pure
within himself: it is to their prejudice, not mine; and
that they do regard it falsely, is not the fault of an evil
will but of a feeble vision; they themselves would be glad
indeed were it possible for them to come to the truth.
Finally it is to be noticed as an advantage arising from
the creation of the critic species, that he who has no great
pleasure in reading, or has not much time to devote to that
purpose, no longer requires to read books ; but by mere
reference to the literary Journals finds the whole Literature

SCIENTIFIC CONDITION OF THE THIRD AGE. 97

of the Age brought within his grasp ; and in this way,
indeed, it may be said that books are only printed in order
that they may be reviewed; and there would no longer be
any need for books, if Reviews could be fabricated without
them.

Such is the portraiture of the active section of this
camp of Formal Knowledge ; namely, the Authors. After
their image, the passive or receptive section, the body
of Readers fashions itself, that it may become their
exact counterpart. As the former write on, without rest
or intermission; so do the latter read on, without rest
or intermission, straining every nerve to keep their head
above the flood of Literature, and, as they call it, to
advance with the Age. Glad to have hurried through
the old they eagerly grasp at the new, while the newest
already makes its appearance ; and not a single moment
remains for them ever to revert to the old. They can
by no means stop themselves in this restless career in
order to consider what they read ; for their business is
pressing, and time is short : and so it is left wholly to
chance what and how much of their reading may stick
to them in this rapid transit, how it may influence
them, and what spiritual form it may assume.

This custom of reading for its own sake is specifically
different from every other habit of mind; and, having some
thing about it in the highest degree agreeable, it soon
becomes an indispensable want to those who once indulge
in it. Like other narcotic remedies, it places those who use
it in the pleasant condition betwixt sleeping and waking,
and lulls them into sweet self-forgetfulness without calling
for the slightest exertion on their part. It has always ap
peared to me to have the greatest resemblance to tobacco-
smoking, and to be best illustrated by that habit. He who
has once tasted the delights of this condition will desire
continually to enjoy them, and will devote himself to
nothing else : he now reads even without regard to the

n

98 LECTURE VI.

knowledge of Literature, or to advancing with his Age ;
but with this view only, that he may read, and reading
live ; and so represents in his person the character of
the pure Reader.

At this point Authorship and Readership both reach
their end ; they disappear in themselves, the final result
being its own extinction. To the pure Reader, as we
have described him, there is no longer any instruction
in his reading, nor does he derive any clear conceptions
from it ; for any printed production forthwith lulls him
into listless repose and placid self-forgetfulness. Besides,
all other means of instruction are cut off from him.
Hence verbal communication, by continuous discourse or
scientific conversation, possesses infinite advantage over
the mere dead letter. Writing was only practised by
the Ancients in order to convey such spoken instruction
to those who had not access to the speaker ; everything
that was written had in the first place been verbally
communicated, and was but a copy of the spoken dis
course : only among the Moderns, and particularly since
the invention of printing, has this method of intercourse
claimed recognition for its own sake; whereby style, among
other things, having lost the living corrective of speech,
has fallen to ruin. But even for spoken communication,
a Reader such as we have described is from the first
wholly unfit.

How could such an one, habitually given up to ab
solute passivity, understand the bearings of a connected
discourse, which demand an active effort of the mind to lay
hold of and retain them ? How could he, were the dis
course broken up into periods, as every good discourse
ought to be, how could he combine the separate periods
together, and review them as a whole? If he could
have them put before his eyes in black and white,
then, he thinks, his difficulty should be removed. But
he deceives himself. Even in that case, he would not

SCIENTIFIC CONDITION OF THE THIRD AGE. 99

mentally comprehend the unity of the discourse, but
would only, through his eye, embrace the extent of it
included within his range of vision, hold this fast upon
the paper and by means of the paper ; and then imagine
that he had comprehended it.

Arrived at this point, I said, the scientific effort of the
Age has destroyed itself! and the Race stands in absolute
impotence on the one side, and in absolute incapacity on
the other, for farther cultivation : the Age can no longer
read, and therefore all writing is in vain. Thus it is
high time to begin something new, and, in my opinion,
this something should be, on the one side, to return to
the method of spoken discourse, and to cultivate pro
ficiency in this Art ; and on the other, to acquire the
requisite capacities for appreciating this form of com
munication.

If reading is still to be practised, it should at least be in
another way than is customary now. In order that I may
follow up the repulsive description which I have had to
bring before you to-day, with something more pleasing,
allow me to say what mode of reading I hold to be the
right one.

Whatever ought to be read in print, is either a work
of Science, or a product of Literature: whatever is neither
of these, and is without relation to one or other of them,
is much better unread, and might as well have remained
unwritten.

In the first place, with respect to works of Science :
The first object of reading them is to understand them, and
to apprehend historically the true meaning of the Author.
To do this, we must not passively resign ourselves to our
Author, and suffer him to mould us as chance or fortune
may direct; or accept at once whatever dicta he may choose
to propound, and so depart, and get these by rote. But as
the Experimentalist subjects Nature to his interrogatories,
and compels her not to speak at random but to reply to

100 LECTURE VI.

the questions which he puts to her; so is the Author to be
subjected to a skilful and well-considered experiment by
the Reader. This experiment is made in the following way.
After a cursory perusal of the whole book, with the view of
obtaining beforehand a general conception of the Author s
design, the Reader ought to turn to the first leading prin
ciple, period, or paragraph, as the case may be. This is
necessarily, even with respect to the purpose of the Au
thor, only to a certain extent defined in other respects
undefined ; were it already completely defined, then were
the book at an end, and there were no need for the con
tinuation, the only purpose of which is, that therein what
still remains undefined, may gradually be brought to light.
Only in so far as this principle is defined, is it intelligible ;
in so far as it is undefined, it as yet remains unintelligible.
These separate portions, the Intelligible and the Unintelli
gible, the reader sets clearly before himself in the following
way. The subject of which this Author treats is, in
itself, and independently of the Author, definable in this
way, and in this. The more completely the various
possible modes of defining the conception are understood
beforehand, the better are we prepared. Of these
different ways of defining his subject, the Author in his
first principle touches only this, and this ; and thus de
fines his subject only in such and such respects, as
distinguished from the other modes of defining it which
are also possible. So far only is he intelligible to me.
But he leaves his principle undefined in this, and this,
and this respect ; how he may view it on these sides, I
know not as yet. I stand fast in an intelligible position,
surrounded by a distinctly recognised circle of what is
as yet unintelligible. How the Author may think upon
these points, provided he has not declared it at once,
will be seen from the way in which he follows up the
principle he has laid down; the use which he makes of his
admitted propositions will reveal this. Let me read further

SCIENTIFIC CONDITION OF THE THIRD AGE. 101

until the Author more fully declare himself: by this new
definition, a portion of the former indefiniteness certainly
disappears ; the clear point is extended, the sphere of the
Unintelligible is narrowed. Let me make this new ac
quisition of the Intelligible thoroughly distinct to myself,
and impress it on my mind, and read on until the Author
declare himself anew ; and so on in the same way until
the sphere of the Undefined and the Unintelligible has
wholly disappeared in the general mass of light, and I can
re-create for myself the whole system of the Author s
thought in any order that may be desired, and from any
selected point deduce all its other forms. And in order
that he may strictly watch over himself during this ex
amination of his Author, and also in order that what has
once become clear and distinct may not again be lost, it
would even be advisable that he should undertake this
whole operation pen in hand, although it should be neces
sary, as at first might well be the case, to devote twenty
written sheets to a single printed one. Any lamentation
over the loss of paper were here out of place ; only let
him take care that this paper do not hastily find its way to
the press under the name of a commentary ! This com
mentary, as proceeding from the amount of culture which
he has brought to the study of his Author, is still a com
mentary for himself only : and every one who truly desires
to understand the matter would require to practise the
same operation upon his commentary. Let him rather, as is
more becoming, leave others to perform upon the original
Author the same operation for themselves which he himself
has had to do.

It is obvious that in this way a writer may often be
much better understood by another than by himself,
particularly when the Reader sets out from a clearer
conception than his Author. Here he gets involved in
his own reasoning, there he makes a false conclusion,
elsewhere fitting utterance is denied him, and he writes

102 LECTURE VI.

down something wholly different from what he wishes
to express ; what is that to me ? I know how he
ought to have proceeded, and what he would have said,
for I have penetrated his whole thought. These are
the failings of human weakness, which, when united
with true merit in the subject itself, no honourable mind
will reprove.

It is also clear, that by this mode of reading it may soon
be discovered when the Author is not master of the
Science of which he aspires to write, and is ignorant of
the extent to which it has already been cultivated; or
when he is only a bewildered dreamer. In both cases
his book may be quietly laid aside : it will not be neces
sary to read it further.

And in this way, the first object, the understanding
and historical recognition of the Author s meaning, is
attained. Whether this meaning be consistent with
Truth, to ascertain which is the second purpose of
reading, will be very easily determined after such a
searching study as we have described; if, indeed, a judg
ment upon this latter point has not already been formed
during the study itself.

In the second place, with respect to the reading of a
Literary work : The sole purpose of such reading is, that
the Reader may partake of the inspiration, elevation, and
culture of mind which the work may be designed to com
municate. For this purpose, mere passive self-abandonment
is all that is requisite; for it is not the business of every
man to penetrate to the source of aesthetic pleasure, or
even to trace its operations in individual cases. Art
summons all men to the enjoyment, but only a few to
the use, or even to the knowledge, of her secrets. But
in order that a work of Art may even come into con
tact with our minds, and we ourselves enter into com
munion with it, it must first of all be understood;
that is, we must thoroughly comprehend the purpose of

SCIENTIFIC CONDITION OF THE THIRD AGE. 103

the Artist, and what it is which he desires to communi
cate to us by his work, and be able to reproduce this
purpose, as the pervading spirit of the whole work, out of
all its parts, and again to deduce these from the purpose
which created them. Still, this is not the work itself, but
only the prosaic part of it ; that only which, in the con
templation of the work from this point of view, lays hold of
and penetrates us with irresistible power, is the Truth of
Art : but still we must first possess this introductory
knowledge, this comprehension of the work in its organic
unity, before we are capable of its enjoyment. This
organic unity indeed, like all works of Genius, still
remains infinite and inexhaustible, but it is no mean
pleasure to have approached it, although only at a dis
tance. We may return to our common occupations, and
forget this glorious revelation ; but it will abide secretly
in our souls, and gradually develop itself there unknown
to us. After a time we will return to our work, and
see it under another form ; and thus it shall never be
come old to us, but with every new contemplation assume a
new life before us. We shall no longer desire something
new, for we shall have discovered the means of transforming
even the oldest into fresh and living originality.

What this organic unity of a work of Art, which is before
all things to be understood and comprehended, really is,
let no one ask to whom it is not already known, and whose
own thoughts I have not either repeated, or at least given
clearer utterance to, in what I have already said. With
regard to the unity of a Scientific work, I could make my
self quite clear to you, and I think that I have done so ;
not so with respect to the unity of a work of Art. At all
events, the unity of which I speak is not that unity of its
plot, and coherence of its parts, and its probability, and
psychological value, and moral instructiveness, which are
prated of in the common theories, and by the common
critics of Art : vain chatter of barbarians who wilfully

104; LECTURE VI.

belie the true feeling of Art in themselves, to other bar
barians who belie it at second hand ! the unity of which I
speak is another than this, and is best made known to
those who have not yet attained to it by examples, and by
actual analysis and comprehension of existing works of
Art in the spirit which we have described. Would that
a man could be found who would work out this high ad
vantage for humanity, and thereby rekindle in young
minds the almost extinguished sense of Art ! such an
one, however, must not himself be young, but a thoroughly
tried and mature man. Until this come to pass, others
may quietly refrain from the reading and study of those
existing products of Art which by reason of their infinite
depth are unintelligible to them, and the enjoyment of
which, since enjoyment presupposes an understanding of
them, is also shut off from their participation. They
will find it to far better account to content themselves
with Artists of another class, who take the favourite
tendencies, weaknesses, and amusements of the Age
under their protection ; and so crowd together, within a
brief season of enjoyment, what all men crave, and even
actually experience, in life, although unfortunately not
without frequent interruptions. And so it shall be in
reality, henceforward as hitherto, whether we have ac
corded it our sanction or not.

(105)

LECTUEE VII.

EARLIER CONDITIONS OF THE SCIENTIFIC OR LITERARY
WORLD, AND ITS IDEAL CONDITION.

THERE are two objections which may be anticipated to such
descriptions as have been presented to you in my last lec
ture, and which require consideration : First, that every
thing we have adduced may indeed exist in Human Nature
generally, but not in the constitution of any particular Age;
and hence may chance to be found in all Times: Second,
that the whole view is one-sided ; that we have only
adduced whatever is defective in the Age, and set it in an
unfavourable light, but have passed over in silence the good
which is nevertheless to be found in it. The former objec
tion may be best met by recalling to mind Ages in which it
has been otherwise than we have described, and showing
historically how, and by what causes, the present state of
things has arisen. The latter objection cannot affect us, if
we only keep in mind the nature and purpose of our
present undertaking. We have asserted nothing whatever
upon the ground of experience, but on the contrary,
hr.ve deduced the different elements of our description
from principle alone. If our deduction has been correct
and rigid, we have no occasion to inquire whether these
things are so in present reality or not. Are they not so?
then we do not live in the Third Age. The sufficient

]06 LECTURE VII.

justification of our description that these phenomena
constitute a real stage in the progress of Humanity,
which our Race must of necessity pass through; this
has not been denied. We must also keep in view the
general remark made in an early portion of these lectures,
that the elements of very different Ages may often be
found coexistent in the same period of chronological
time, and may intermingle or cross each other ; and in
accordance with this remark, our case may be thus stated:
We have not taken up empirically the literary condition
of our own Time, as such ; but we have put together a
philosophical picture of that of the Third Age: it was
this which we had to make out, and not its opposite;
and it was of it alone that we undertook to speak. If in
the same period of Time there are found other elements,
then these are either the remnants of a Past or the fore
casts of a Future Age ; neither of which we are now
called upon to notice.

Nevertheless, to guard ourselves in every possible way
against misconception, and particularly against that most
hateful of all misconceptions, that we have denied every
thing good which exists in our Age, and also in order
to make a distinct and complete separation of whatever
belongs to different Ages, it will be proper to show in
the latter respect, how the Scientific world ought to be
constituted. Both of these questions, the last which we
have mentioned, as well as the first, we shall consider
in this day s discourse.

In the first place : we have to show that the state of
literature has not always been such as we have described
in our last lecture ; and to declare how it has now become
so. Among the two classical nations of antiquity with
which we are best acquainted, the Greeks and Romans,
there was much less written and read than among our
selves ; while, on the contrary, there was much more
spoken, and vocal discourse was much more carefully

EARLIER CONDITIONS OF THE SCIENTIFIC WORLD. 107

cultivated. Almost all their writings were in the first
place delivered in speech, and were thus only copies of
spoken discourses for the use of those who could not
themselves be present at their delivery; and from this
circumstance arises, amongst other advantages, the great
superiority of the Ancients over the Moderns in respect
of style, since, among the latter, written productions claim
a peculiar value for themselves, and, for the most part,
want the corrective of living speech. Among the Ancients
there existed no particular interest in spreading scientific
culture among the people ; the culture in which they
actually participated was chiefly accidental and more a
culture of Art than of Science.

Christianity appeared in the world and there arose an
entirely new interest in general cultivation, for the sake
of Religion to which all men were now called. There
are in our opinion two very different forms of Chris
tianity : the one contained in the Gospel of John, and
the other in the writings of the Apostle Paul ; to which
latter party the other Evangelists for the most part, and
particularly Luke, belong. The Johannean Jesus knows
no other God than the True God, in whom we all are, and
live, and may be blessed, and out of whom there is only
Death and Nothingness ; and he appeals, and rightly ap
peals, in support of this Truth, not to reasoning, but to
the inward practical sense of Truth in man, not even
knowing any other proof than this inward testimony.
If any man will do the will of Him who sent me, he
shall know of the doctrine whether it be of God : such
is his teaching. As to its historical aspect, his doctrine
is to him as old as the creation, it is the first and primi
tive Religion; Judaism, on the contrary, as a corruption
of later times, he unconditionally and unsparingly re
jects : Your father is Abraham ; mine is God, he says
to the Jews ; Before Abraham was, I am ; Abraham
rejoiced to see my day, and he saw it, and was glad.

108 LECTURE VII.

This latter assertion, that Abraham saw Jesus day,
refers without doubt to the occasion when Melchizedek,
the Priest of THE MOST HIGH GOD, (which Most High
God is expressly opposed, throughout the whole first
chapter of the first book of Moses, to the subordinate and
creating God Jehovah) when, I say, this Priest of the
Most High God blessed Abraham, the servant of Jehovah,
and took tithes from him ; from which latter circum
stance the author of the Epistle to the Hebrews very
fully and acutely proves the greater antiquity and superior
rank of Christianity over Judaism, and expressly calls
Jesus a Priest after the order of Melchizedek, and thus
represents him as the restorer of the Religion of Mel
chizedek; without doubt entirely in the sense of that
peculiar revelation of Jesus which is given by John. In
this Evangelist it remains wholly doubtful whether or
not Jesus was of Jewish origin at all ; or if he were,
what was his descent and parentage. Quite otherwise is
it with Paul, by whom, even from the commencement of a
Christian Church, John has been superseded. Paul, having
become a Christian, would not admit that he had been
in the wrong in having been once a Jew ; both systems
must therefore be united, and fitly accommodate them
selves to each other. This is brought about in the
following way, as indeed it could not easily have been
effected in any other : He sets out from the powerful,
angry, and jealous God of Judaism ; the same whom we
have already depicted as the God of the whole Ancient
World. With this God, according to Paul, the Jews had
made a Covenant; this was their advantage over the
Heathen. During the existence of this Covenant they
had but to keep the Law, and they were justified before
God ; that is, they had no farther evil to fear from him.
By the murder of Jesus, however, they had broken this
Covenant; and since that time it no longer availed them to
keep the Law. On the contrary, since the death of Jesus,

EARLIEK CONDITIONS OF THE SCIENTIFIC WORLD. 10i)

a New Covenant came into operation, to which both Jews
and Heathen were invited. According to this New Cove
nant, both had only to acknowledge Jesus as the promised
Messiah, and were thereby justified; as the Jews had been
justified before the death of Jesus by the keeping of the
Law. Christianity became a New Testament or Covenant,
existing now for the first time, and abolishing the Old
Testament or Covenant. Now, indeed, it was necessary
that Jesus should become a Jewish Messiah, and be
made a son of David, that the prophecies might be ful
filled ; genealogies were discovered, and a history of his
birth arid of his childhood, which, however, in both the
shapes in which they appear in our canon, strikingly
enough contradict each other. I do not say that in Paul,
generally, true Christianity is not to be found: when he
is not directly engaged with the great problem of his
life, the intercalation of the two systems, he speaks
so justly and so excellently, and knows the True God of
Jesus so truly, that we seem to listen to another man
altogether. But wherever he treats of his favourite
theme, it is as we have stated it above.

The immediate consequence of this Paulinean system;
a system which undertook to remove the objections raised
by the disputatious reasonings of the Jews ; (the first
principle of which reasonings, i.e. that Judaism was once
the True Religion, which is wholly denied by the Johan-
iiean Jesus, is in the Paulinean system not only not
denied but fully asserted :) I say, that the immediate and
necessary consequence of such a system was that it should
itself appeal to argumentative reasoning as its judge;
and indeed, since Christianity is addressed to all men,
that it should appeal to the reasoning of all men. And
so did Paul in reality ; he reasoned and disputed with
the pertinacity of a master ; and gloried in having taken
captive i.e. convinced all minds. Thus the Under
standing was already to him the highest Authority, and

110 LECTUBE VII.

it necessarily assumed this position in a system of Chris
tianity of which Paul was the author. But by this
means the way was already prepared for the ruin of
Christianity. You have challenged me to reason ; I,
with your good leave, will reason for myself. You have
indeed tacitly taken it for granted that my reasoning
cannot issue in any result different from your own ; but
should it fall out otherwise, and I should arrive at some
wholly opposite conclusion, as will unquestionably happen
should I proceed upon some other prevalent philosophy,
then must I prefer my own conclusions to yours, and
that too with your own approval, if you are consistent
with your own teaching. Such liberty was very assiduously
cultivated in the first centuries of the Christian Church,
and arguments without end were carried on respecting
dogmas which owed their origin wholly to the Paulinean
scheme of Mediation ; and there arose in the One Church
the greatest possible variety of opinions and disputes;
all proceeding upon the maxim that the Understanding
is the Supreme Authority : and this scheme of Chris
tianity, I may once for all term Gnosticism. But in
this way it was impossible to preserve the unity of the
Church ; and since all parties were equally far from dis
covering the true source of the evil in the original depar
ture from the simplicity of Christianity for the purpose of
gaining the good graces of Judaism, there was nothing
left but a very heroic expedient ; this, namely, to forbid all
farther thought, and to maintain that, by a special provi
dence of God, the Truth was deposited in the Written
Word and the existing Oral Traditions, and must be
believed whether it was understood or not; and as any
farther interpretation of those infallible sources of Truth
which might be necessary rested with the Church at
large, or with a majority of the voices of the Church, it
followed that the statutes in which this interpretation
was contained demanded a faith as unconditional as the

EARLIER CONDITIONS OF THE SCIENTIFIC WORLD. Ill

original media themselves. Henceforward all invitations
on the part of Christianity to individual thought and
conviction were at an end : on the contrary, such thought
became a forbidden enterprise, visited with all the punish
ments of the Church ; so that he who could not abandon
it must pursue it at his own peril.

In this condition the matter remained for a long time,
until the Reformation broke forth ; the Art of Printing,
the most important instrument of this Reformation, having
been previously discovered. This Reformation was as far
removed as the original self-constituted Church from per
ceiving the true ground of the degeneration of Christianity ;
it remained at one with the Church in its rejection of
Gnosticism, and in its demand for unconditional Faith
even without Understanding ; only it directed this Faith
towards another object; rejecting the Infallibility of Oral
Tradition and of the Decrees of Councils, and taking its
stand upon that of the Written Word. The inconsistency
of this position, that the Authenticity of this Written
Word itself rested upon Oral Tradition and upon the
Infallibility of the Councils who collected and fixed our
Canon, was overlooked. And thus, for the first time
in the world, a Written Book was formally installed as
the highest Standard of Truth and the only Teacher of
the way of Salvation.

Oat of this Book, thus elevated to be the sole criterion of
Truth, the Reformers combated whatever flowed from the
other two sources of belief; thus obviously reasoning in a
circle, and ascribing to their opponents a principle which
they disowned ; these asserting that without Oral Tradition
and the Decrees of the Church it is impossible to understand
the Scriptures of which they contain the only authentic
interpretation. In this position of their cause, and its
absolute untenableness for an educated public who were
acquainted with the points at issue, they had no course
remaining open to them except an appeal to the people.

112 LECTURE VII.

For them, therefore, the Bible had to be translated into the
vulgar tongues, and thus placed in their own hands; and
they had to be called upon to read and to judge for them
selves, whether that which the Reformers found in the
Scriptures is not clearly contained therein. These means
could not but succeed. The people were flattered by
the privilege conferred upon them, and eagerly availed
themselves of it on every opportunity ; and by means of
this principle, indeed, the Reformation would certainly
have spread over the whole of Christian Europe, had
not the authorities set themselves against it, and hit
upon the only certain antidote to its progress ; i.e. to
prevent the Protestant translations of the Bible, and the
other writings of the Reformers, from falling into the
hands of the people.

It was only through this zeal for Christianity, as re
presented by the Bible, which Protestantism called forth,
that the printed letter acquired the high and universal
value which it has possessed since the Reformation : it
became the almost indispensable means of salvation ; and
without being able to read, a man could no longer, pro
perly speaking, be a Christian, or be tolerated in any
Christian and Protestant State. Hence the prevailing
notions on the subject of popular education ; hence the
universality of reading and writing. We need not be
surprised that the primary object, Christianity, was
afterwards forgotten, and that what was at first only the
means became in itself the end : this is the common fate
of all human arrangements after they have endured for
any length of time.

This abandonment of the end for the means was more
particularly promoted by a circumstance which, for other
reasons, we cannot leave untouched. The Old Church,
wherever she was enabled to maintain herself against
the first assaults of the Reformation, soon discovered new
means of defence, whereby she was relieved from all

EARLIER CONDITIONS OF THE SCIENTIFIC WORLD. 113

dread of the new power ; and this the more easily that
Protestantism itself placed these means in her hands.
There soon arose, namely, in the bosom of the latter, a
new Gnostiscism ; bearing indeed the form of Protestan
tism and taking its stand on the Bible, but, like the old
Gnostiscism, maintaining the principle that the Bible
must be interpreted by Reason ; that is, by such Reason
as these Gnostics themselves possessed ; and they were
just so far reasonable as the worst of all philosophical
systems, that of Locke, enabled them to be. They did
no other service than combating some of the Paulinean
notions; that of vicarious satisfaction, saving faith in this
satisfaction, &c. ; leaving untouched the great leading
error of an arbitrary God, now making Covenants, and now
abolishing them, according to time and circumstances. By
this means Protestantism lost almost every feature of
Positive Religion, and the followers of the old faith were
enabled, aptly enough, to represent it as absolute In
fidelity. Thus securely protected against its assailants,
the Church had nothing more to fear from Authorship
and its attendant tribe of Readers ; and these could now
propagate their opinions out of Protestant into Catholic
States under the name of Independent Philosophy.

Thus much it was necessary for me to say in order to re
solve the question with which we set out, as to the origin
of the high value which is now set upon the printed letter.
In this inquiry, I have had to touch upon matters which
possess great value for many who associate them with what
alone is possessed of absolute value with Religion. I
have spoken of Catholicism and Protestantism, so that
it may be seen that I hold them both to be in error in
the most important matter at issue ; and I would not
willingly leave this matter without, at least, declaring
my own view of it.

In my opinion, both parties stand on one common ground
which is wholly untenable, the Paulinean theory; which,

P

LECTURE VII.

in order to give validity to Judaism, even for a limited time,
had necessarily to proceed upon the conception of an arbi
trary God; and both parties being completely at one as to
the truth of this theory, and not harbouring the slightest
doubt regarding it, dispute only concerning the grounds
upon which the Paulinean scheme is to be maintained.
Thus peace and unity are no more to be thought of;
nay, it were far from desirable that a peace should be
concluded in favour of either side. Peace, however,
would forthwith be the result, were mankind to throw
aside this theory altogether, and return to Christianity
in its original form as it exists in the Gospel of John.
There no proof is recognised but the Inward Testimony,
the appeal to man s own sense of Truth, and to his
spiritual Nature. Who Jesus himself, in his mere person
ality, was or was riot, is of importance only to the follower of
Paul, who would make him the abrogator of an Old Cove
nant with God, and the mediator of a New one in the same
name, for which business it was of essential importance that
he should possess a significant descent. The true Christian
knows no Covenant or Mediation with God, but only the
Old, Eternal, and Unchangeable Relation, that in Him we
live, and move, and have our being ; and he asks not who
has said this, but only what has been said; even the book
wherein this may be written is nothing to him as a proof,
but only as a means of culture ; lie bears the proof in his
own breast. This is my view of the matter, which does not
seem to contain anythingvery dangerous, and does not over
step the limits of the freedom of philosophical inquiry into
religious topics recognised among Protestants; and I have
communicated it to you in order that you may test it by
your own knowledge of Religion and its history, and may
try whether by means of it, light, order, and connexion are
introduced into the whole ; but I have no wish to invite
the Theologian to a discussion of it. Educated myself in
the schools of the Theologians, I am well acquainted with

IDEAL CONDITION OF THE SCIENTIFIC WORLD. 115

their weapons, and I know that upon their own ground
they are invincible ; but I also know my own theory,
which I have now communicated to you, too well not
to perceive that it altogether supersedes the whole pre
sent Theology, with all its pretensions ; and that whatever
is valuable in the inquiries of these men, has reference
only to the departments of historical and philological
learning, without possessing any influence upon Religion
or Happiness ; and thus I cannot join issue with the
Theologian who desires to remain a Theologian rather
than a Teacher of the People.

So much for our first business, to exhibit historically
the way in which that state of Literature and Science,
already described as characteristic of the Third Age, has
actually arisen. Now to our second task, to show how
this Literary and Scientific world ought to be constituted.
In the first place : All the existing relations of actual
life, which can only be superseded in and by the Age of
the perfect Art of Reason, demand that only a few shall
devote their lives to Science, and by far the majority to
other pursuits ; that thus the distinction between the
Scholar, or let us rather say between the Learned, and
the Unlearned, must still subsist for a long period. Both
have yet to raise themselves to the real substance of Know
ledge, to the true creative Reason; and the formalism of
mere unreasoning Conception must be wholly got rid of.
The people, in particular, must be raised to Pure Christianity,
such as we have described it above, as the only medium
through which at first Ideas can be communicated to them.
In this respect both parties, Learned as well as Unlearned,
are in the same position. They are separated in the
following way : the Learned find Reason itself, and all
its modifications, in a system of connected and consecutive
Thought ; to them, the Universe of Reason, as we have
elsewhere expressed it, reveals itself in pure Thought as
such. This knowledge they then communicate to the

116 LECTURE VIT.

Unlearned, unaccompanied however by the strict proof of
which it is susceptible in the system of pure Thought, to
adduce which would render the communication itself
Learned and Scholastic ; which knowledge is then au
thenticated immediately by the Unlearned themselves
through their own natural sense of Truth ; just as we
have proceeded in these lectures which we have announced
as popular discourses. I myself have found what has
been here taught in a consecutive system of Thought,
but I have not communicated it to you in this shape.
In one of our first lectures I requested you to inquire
whether you could withhold your approval from such a
way of thinking as I there described, and if you should
find it impossible to do so, I asked you whether, within
your own selves, Reason does not in this way declare in
favour of such a mode of Thought : in the two last
lectures I have presented the opposite view to you in
such a light that its falsehood and perversion must have
been immediately evident ; and if I made myself intelli
gible to you it must have excited, at least, inward
amusement. Other proofs I have not here adduced. I
teach the same things in my scientific philosophical
lectures ; but there I accompany my teachings with proofs
of another description. Further, these lectures have
been addressed, as popular-philosophical discourses, to
a cultivated audience, and therefore I have clothed them in
cultivated language, and in that garb of metaphor which
belongs to it. I might have taught the same things to the
people, from the pulpit, in the character of a preacher,
and then it would have been necessary to make use of
Bible language : for example, what I have here termed
the Life in the Idea, should in that case have been
named Resignation to the Will of God ; or Devotion to
the Will of God, &c. This popular communication of
knowledge by the Learned to the Unlearned, can only
be effected in discourses, or by means of the press if

IDEAL CONDITION OF THE SCIENTIFIC WORLD. 117

those to whom it is addressed possess at least the art of
reading.

Secondly : In the cultivation of the whole domain of
Science, and therefore in the constitution of the Literary
Republic, plan, order, and system are requisite. From
Reason as Knowledge, or the Absolute Philosophy, the
whole domain of Science may be completely surveyed, and
the office of each individual strictly defined. Every one
who lays claim to the name of a Scholar must necessarily
be in possession of this pure Reason ; otherwise, how
ever well-informed he may think himself in some particular
department, if he be ignorant of the ultimate ground
of all Science, upon which his own Science depends, then
of a surety he cannot understand even his own Science in
its ultimate foundations, and indeed has not yet thoroughly
penetrated into its significance. Every one can in this way
distinctly see when there is something yet awanting in the
circle of Science, and what it is which is awanting ; and
can thus select some particular department as the field of
his own exertion. He will not think of completing anew
what has been already completed.

All Knowledge which is strictly a priori may be com
pleted and the inquiry closed ; and it will be brought to
this conclusion so soon as the Literary Republic shall
carry on its labours systematically. Empircism only is
infinite; as well in its fixed department, i.e. Nature, in
Physics, as in its changing department, i.e. the varying
phenomena of the Human Race, in History. The first,
Physics, when all its a priori elements have been dis
tinguished, completed and perfected in their several
forms by the higher Reason, will be limited to Experi
ment; and receive from Reason the Art of rightly com
prehending the significance of Experiment, and the
knowledge how Nature is to be again interrogated. The
second, History, will by the same Reason he relieved of
the myths respecting the origin of the Human Race

118 LECTURE VII.

which properly belong to Metaphysics; and will receive
instead a distinct conception of the true objects of his
torical inquiry, and what belongs to them ; with a Logic
of historical Truth : and thus, even in this inexhaus
tible province, we shall have a sure progress according
to rule instead of an uncertain groping in the dark.

As the substance of all Knowledge has its fixed law, so
both its scientific and popular expression have their settled
rules. Have these been transgressed ? then the error may
perhaps be discovered by some one else, and corrected in a
new work : have they not been transgressed, or am I unable
to make any improvement on that which already exists ?
why should I change it for the mere sake of change ? In
every Science let the best scientific and the best popular
works remain the only ones, until something really
better appear to take their place ; then let the former
be altogether laid aside, and the latter alone remain.
True, the unlearned public is a progressive body ; for
its members are presumed to advance in the ranks of
culture by means of the fit teaching of the Learned,
and what they already know they do not need to be
taught again. It is thus quite conceivable that a popu
lar work, which is well suited to the period of its
appearance, may afterwards, when the Time has changed,
become no longer adequate to its purpose, and must be
replaced by another ; but this progress will certainly not
be so rapid that the people shall need to be supplied
with something new every half-year.

From Reason as Knowledge, I have said above, the
whole domain of Science may be surveyed. Every Scholar
must be in possession of this Knowledge, were it only that he
may thereby be able at all times to understand the actual
state of the scientific world, and thus to know at what point
his labour may be most advantageously applied. There is
no reason why this actual condition of the scientific world
should not be chronicled in a continuous work devoted to

IDEAL CONDITION OF THE SCIENTIFIC WORLD. 119

that purpose, and a survey of it recorded there, partly for
the use of cotemporaries, and partly for future history.
Something similar to this was said in our description
of the Third Age as the function of the Literary Jour
nals and Magazines. Thus if we describe how such a
Review would be executed in the Age of Reason as
Knowledge, we shall at the same time declare how a
Literary Journal ought to be conducted, if such Journals
must exist; and from the contrast, it may also become
obvious why such Journals, in their common form, are
good for nothing, and can be good for nothing. To
complete the antithesis between our last lecture and our
present one, we must now proceed to this description.

The scientific position of every point of Time must ma
nifest itself according to the Idea which we have already
announced ; and the supposition is that it will so manifest
itself in the works of the Time. These lie open to every
eye ; and all who are interested in the question which we
have proposed can answer it, without our aid, by re
ference to the same source from which we, without their
help, have answered it. We see not to what end our
assistance is needful here. If we would make our aid
necessary, we must do something which others either can
not do at all, or cannot do without some specific labour
of which we can relieve them. We cannot again inform
the Reader of what the Author himself has said ; for the
Author has already said this for himself, and the Reader
may satisfactorily learn it from him. What we must de
clare for him, is precisely that which the Author has not
said, but from which he has drawn everything which he
has said; we must lay bare what the Author himself
really is, perhaps unconsciously to himself, and how all
which he has said has become to him such as it is;
we must extract the spirit from his letter. If this
spirit in the individual be also the spirit of the Time,
and if we have made it manifest in any one instance

120 LECTURE VII.

belonging to the Time, and possibly in that instance in
which it is most clearly visible, then I do not see why we
should repeat the same thing with reference to others, in
whom there may indeed be some accidental and outward
difference, but internally an exact similitude ; and thus
become mere copyists of ourselves. The question is not
concerning the position of Sempronius, or Caius, or Titus,
but concerning the position of the Age ; if we have al
ready made this manifest by the example of Sempronius,
then we have, at most, to add the remark that Caius and
Titus are examples of the same kind; so that no one may
expect that they should be separately considered. Should
these possess, in addition to the essential and prevailing
spirit of the Age, such and such subsidiary and character
istic tendencies, then we must thoroughly investigate these
tendencies, and exhibit each of them clearly by means of
its most remarkable example : as for the other instances
belonging to the same class, we may, at most, apply to
them the remark already suggested.

It is not otherwise with the estimate of the Age in refer
ence to Art; in which department we here confine ourselves
to Literature. The measure of excellence is the elevated
purity, the ethereal clearness, the serene calmness, un
troubled by individual imperfection or by any relation
which does not belong to the domain of pure Art, which the
work displays. Have we set these forth as they exist in the
masterworks of the Age; why need we concern ourselves
with the efforts of mere aspirants? or even with the studies
of the master ? The latter we employ, in order thereby the
better to penetrate and understand the individuality of the
Artist, which, as such, is never a sensuous, but always
an ideal individuality, and by means of this knowledge
of his individuality to attain a more thorough compre
hension of his work. In short, such a Review must be
nothing else, and desire to be nothing else, than a record
of the essential spirit of Science and of Art ; whatever

IDEAL CONDITION OF THE SCIENTIFIC WORLD. 121

cannot be regarded as a variation and farther embodi
ment of this spirit, should have no place in it, and
should not enter within the circle of its observation.
It matters not that each day in the calendar may not
send forth its printed sheet of such a Review ; nor
every month, nor even perhaps every half-year, its vol
ume ; in that case paper has been saved and the Reader
has been spared much useless labour. Does no contin
uation appear? it is a sign that nothing new has
occurred in the intellectual world, but that everything
moves in its old round : has something new occurred ?
the record will not be wanting to announce it.

With regard to Art alone an exception to the strictness
of this rule may be permitted. Humanity is as yet much
further removed from true Knowledge in Art than in
Science, and there will be needed a much longer course
of preparation before it can arrive at the former, than
may be required in its progress towards the latter. In
this respect, even feeble efforts employed on the inter
pretation of imperfect works of Art may be welcomed,
not indeed as portions of our true spiritual record,
which can only describe the real, living movement of
Humanity ; but only as popular aids, that thereby the
general public may become more conversant with the
art of understanding a work ; and if the common
Journals of Criticism only sometimes made such attempts
they might be entitled to our thanks. But with reference
to Science no such exception to the strictness of the rule
can be admitted : for beginners in this department there
are Schools and Universities in existence.

( 123 )

LECTURE VIII.

MYSTICISM AS A PHENOMENON OF THE THIRD AGE.

THE Third Age has now been described in its fundamental
character, as an Age lohich accepts nothing but ivhat it
understands ; and its leading conception in this process of
understanding has been sufficiently set forth as that of mere
sensuous Experience. From this fundamental principle of
the Age we have deduced the distinction between a Learned
and an Unlearned Class, and the constitution of these two
classes, both in themselves and in their relation to each
other. In addition to this we have shown historically, in
our last lecture, that this relation has not always existed
as at present ; how and in what way it has arisen and
become as it now is ; and also how this relation must
exist in the following Age, that of Reason as Know
ledge.

Now we have formerly remarked, in our general survey
of this subject, that such an Age of mere naked Experience
and of empty Formal Knowledge does by its very nature stir
up opposition, and bears within its own breast the germs
of a reaction against itself. Let us take up this remark
in the lecture of to-day, and pursue it somewhat further.
It cannot be but that single individuals, either because
they actually feel the dreary barrenness and emptiness of
the results of such a principle, or else moved by the

mere

124 LECTURE VIII.

desire of bringing forward something wholly new, which
desire itself we have already discovered among the charac
teristics of this Epoch, precisely inverting the principle
of the Age, and representing its pretension to understand
all things as its bane and the source of all its error,
should now, on the contrary, set up the Incomprehensible as
such, and on account of its incomprehensibility, as their
own principle, as all of which man stands in need, the
true source of all healing and sanctification. Even this
phenomenon, as I said before, although apparently quite
opposed to the Third Age, does nevertheless belong to
the necessary phenomena of this Age, and is not to be
overlooked in a complete delineation of it.

In the first place, the fact that the supporters of the
maxim, that we must be able to understand everything
which ice ought to admit as true, do nevertheless con
stantly accept many things which neither they nor their
opponents understand, is a manifest contradiction of the
maxim itself; which contradiction obviously cannot take
place, or be theoretically propounded until the maxim itself
be announced, and indeed only arises in the polemical dis
cussion of the maxim ; a contradiction, however, which
must necessarily make its appearance so soon as this maxim
has been prevalent for any length of time, has received
mature consideration, and has been brought out in clear
and unequivocal distinctness. Thus the announcement of
this principle of the Incomprehensible is neither the begin
ning nor yet any essential element of the new Age which
is to arise out of the Third, namely, the Age of Reason
as Knowledge ; for it finds no fault with the maxim of
absolute Intelligibility, but rather recognises it as its own;
finding fault only with the mischievous and worthless
notion which is now made the standard of this Intelligi
bility, and the measure of all authentic Truth; while as to
Intelligibility itself, the Age of Reason as Knowledge lays
it down as a fundamental principle, that everything, even

MYSTICISM AS A PHENOMENON OF THE THIRD AGE. 125

the Unknown itself, as the limit of the Known, and as the
only possible pledge that the domain of the Known is ex
hausted, must be comprehended ; and that in all Times,
and as the only sufficient substratum of the Time, there
must be a then Unknown, known only as the Unknown ;
but at no Time an absolute Incomprehensible. This prin
ciple of absolute Incomprehensibility is thus much more
directly opposed to Knowledge, than even the principle
of the Intelligibility of all things through the concep
tions of mere sensuous Experience. Finally, this prin
ciple of Incomprehensibility, as such, is not a remnant
of any former Age, as is obvious from what we have
already said on this point. The absolute Incomprehen
sible of Heathen and Jewish antiquity, the arbitrary
God, never to be understood but always to be feared,
with whom man could only by good fortune come to
terms, far from having been sought out by these Ages,
was imposed upon them by necessity, and in opposition to
their own will, and they would gladly have been delivered
from this conception had that been possible. The In
comprehensible of the Christian Church, again, was
accepted as true, not on account of its being incom
prehensible, but because it existed in the Written Word
and in the Traditions and Doctrines of the Church,
although it had accidentally turned out to be incom
prehensible. The maxim of which we now speak, on
the contrary, sets up the Incomprehensible as the
Highest, in its own character of incomprehensibility, and
even on account of its incomprehensibility ; arid it is
thus a wholly new and unprecedented phenomenon
peculiar to the Third Age.

When the matter does not end in this mere acceptance
of the Incomprehensible generally, so that it might be
left to each man to determine for himself what is incom
prehensible to him ; but when besides this, as might be
expected from the dogmatic Spirit of the Age, a specific

126 LECTURE VIII.

and defined formula of the Incomprehensible is set forth
and proposed for our acceptance ; the question presents
itself, How does this phenomenon arise ? Not from the
elder superstition, for this has now passed away so far as
the cultivated classes are concerned, and its residue is
only to be found in Theology ; nor from Theology, for
this is, as we have already seen, something altogether
different. It is through insight into the emptiness of the
previous system, and thus by means of reasoning, that
this new system has arisen ; it must therefore establish
its Incomprehensible by means of reasoning and free
thought, which here, however, assume the forms of In
vention and Imagination: Hence the founders and
representatives of this system will bear the name of
Philosophers.

The production of an Unknown and Incomprehensible,
by means of unrestrained Imagination, has always been
named Mysticism; we shall therefore comprehend this
new system in its essential nature, if we set forth dis
tinctly what Mysticism is, and wherein it consists.

Mysticism has this in common^with true Reason as
Knowledge ; it does not recognise the conceptions of -mere
sensuous Experience as the Highest, but strives to raise
itself above all Experience; and since there is nothing
beyond the domain of Experience but the world of Pure
Thought, it builds up a Universe for itself from Pure
Thought alone, as we have already said of Reason as
Knowledge. The defenders of Experience as the only
source of truth thus hit the mark as closely as they pos
sibly can, and more closely perhaps than they themselves
are aware of, when they denominate him a Mystic who,
on whatever ground, denies the exclusive validity which
they claim for Experience; for this Mysticism, which
they can only apprehend by an effort of fancy, and from
which they have so carefully guarded themselves before
hand by strict adherence to Experience, this Mysticism,

MYSTICISM AS A PHENOMENON OF THE THIRD AGE. 127

I say, does indeed raise itself above Experience ; whilst
the other way of rising above Experience, namely, by
Knowledge, has never presented itself to them in its
true character, and on this side they have had, as yet, no
temptations to overcome.

In this firm reliance on the world of Thought, as the
Highest and most excellent, Reason as Knowledge and
Mysticism are completely at one.

The distinction between them depends solely upon the
nature of the thought from which they respectively pro
ceed. The fundamental thought of Reason as Knowledge
which because it is a fundamental thought, is abso
lutely one and complete in itself is, in the view of Reason,
thoroughly clear and distinct ; and from it Reason per
ceives, in the same unchangeable clearness, the immediate
procession of all the multiplicity of particular thoughts;
and, since things can only exist in thought, of the multi
plicity of all particular things, making them, in this
procession, the subject of immediate apprehension ; this
even to the limits of all clearness ; and, as these limits
must likewise be conceived of as necessary limits, even to
the boundaries of the Unknown. Further, this thought
does not spontaneously present itself to Reason, but must
be pursued with labour, assiduity, and care ; for Reason
must never rest satisfied with anything which is, as yet,
imperfectly understood, but must continually ascend to a
higher principle of interpretation, and again to a higher,
until at last there shall be but one pure mass of Light.
So it is with the Thought of Reason. But the thoughts
from which Mysticism may arise, for these are very
different in the different individuals who entertain them,
and are even very variable in one and the same individual,
these thoughts can never be clearly referred to any fun
damental principle. On this account they are only to a
certain extent clear even in themselves ; and, so far as
regards their connexion with each other, they are abso-

128 LECTURE VIII.

lutely unintelligible. On this account, too, these thoughts
can never be proved, nor attain any greater degree of
clearness than that which they already possess ; but they
may be postulated, or, should the language of true Rea
son be already current, the reader or hearer may be direc
ted to the Intellectual Intuition ; which latter, however,
has a totally different meaning in Reason from that which
it bears in Mysticism. For the same reason, no account
can be given of the method in which these thoughts have
been discovered, because, in reality, they have not been
discovered by means of a systematic ascent to a higher
principle, like the primitive thoughts of Reason, but are,
in truth, the mere conceits of Chance.

And this Chance, what is it at bottom ? Although
those who are in its service can never explain it, yet can
not we explain it ? It is a blind thinking-power, which,
like all other blind powers, is, in the final analysis, only a
force of Nature from the control of which free thought sets
us at liberty; depending, like all other natural conditions,
upon the state of health, the temperament, the mode of
life, the studies, &c. of the individual ; so that these
Mystics, with their fascinating philosophy, notwithstanding
their boast of having raised themselves above Nature, and
their profound contempt for all Empiricism, are them
selves but a somewhat unusual empirical phenomenon,
without having the least suspicion of the real state of the
case.

The remark that the principles of Mysticism are mere
accidental conceits, imposes upon me the duty of distin
guishing it from another, and, in some respects, similar
process of thought; and I embrace this opportunity of
more strictly defining it. In the domain of Physics,
namely, not only the most important experiments, but
even the most searching and comprehensive theories are
often the results of chance, or it may be said, of mere
conjecture ; and so must it be, until Reason be sufficiently

MYSTICISM AS A PHENOMENON OF THE THIRD AGE. 129

extended and spread abroad, and have fulfilled the duty
which it owes to Physics, as strictly defined in our last
lecture. But the true Physical Inquirer always proceeds
beyond the Phenomena, seeking only the Law in the Unity
of which the Phenomena may be comprehended ; and as
soon as he has reached the primitive Thought, returning
again to the Phenomena in order to test the Thought by its
application to them ; undoubtedly with the firm conviction
that the validity of the Thought can only be established
by its sufficiency for the explanation of the Phenomena,
and with the determination to throw it aside should it
not be verified in this way. It is verified; and he is
thereby satisfied that his conception has been no arbitrary
conceit, but a true Thought revealed by Nature herself;
and thus his inspiration is not Mysticism but is to
be named Genius. Quite otherwise is it with the Mystic :
he neither proceeds outwards from Empiricism, nor
yet does he recognise Empiricism as the judge of his
fancies, but he demands that Nature should regulate
herself by his thoughts; in which he should be per
fectly justified, had he only got hold of the right Thoughts,
and if he knew how far this a priori conception of Nature
can go, at what point it comes to an end, and where
Experiment alone can decide.

These fancies of the Mystic, I have said, are neither clear
in themselves, nor are they proved, or even capable of theo
retical proof which indeed is renounced in the avowal of
Incomprehensibility ; but yet they may be true, and may
therefore be confirmed by our natural sense of Truth,
provided they fall within its sphere. How is it then,
that they are believed in by their original authors
themselves ? I am bound to solve this question before
we proceed further.

These fancies are, at bottom, as we have shown above,
the products of a blind natural thinking-power; which
power must necessarily manifest itself in these particular

130 LECTURE VIII.

circumstances and in these particular individuals exactly as
it does manifest itself; must, I say, unless the individual
were to elevate himself above the mere natural thinkino--

o

power to free and clear Thought ; and so foreclose this
necessity. If this do not happen, then the necessary con
sequence is as follows : every blind power of Nature is
constantly active, although invisibly and unconsciously
to man ; it is therefore to be anticipated that this think
ing-power, as the essential nature of this individual,
should have already manifested itself in many shapes
within him, and thus from time to time have passed
through his mind without its principle being discovered,
or any distinct resolution being taken as to its adoption.
Thus he goes on passively, or listening attentively to the
voice of Nature thinking within him; till at last the
true centre-thought of the whole reveals itself; and he
is not a little astonished to find unity, light, connexion,
and confirmation spread over all his previous fancies;
never imagining for a moment that these earlier fancies
were but shapes or branches of that ever-active thought
which has now come forth into light, with which they
must therefore unquestionably harmonize. He satisfies
himself of the truth of the whole by its sufficiency to afford
an explanation of all the parts ; for he does not know that
they are only parts of this whole, and have only an existence
"by means of the whole. He accepts Imagination as Truth
because it coincides with so many earlier Imaginations,
which, without any suspicion on his part, have come to
him from the same source.

Since this imagination of the Mystic is but a thinking-
power of Nature, it returns upon Nature, attaches itself to
her soil, and attempts to exercise an activity there ; in one
word, Mysticism is, and always must be, a Philosophy of
Nature ( Natur-Philosophie. ) It is necessary that we
should carefully consider these latter remarks, in order
strictly to distinguish between Mysticism and something

MYSTICISM AS A PHENOMENON OF THE THIRD AGE. 131

else which is often inconsiderately mistaken for it.
Either the mere sensuous instinct, the desire of personal
preservation arid of physical well-being, is the only im
pulse to the thoughts as well as to the actions of men,
and then Thought is only the servant of Desire, and
only exists for the purpose of observing and choosing
the means of its satisfaction ; or, Thought is living and
active in itself and by its own proper power. Upon
the first supposition is founded the whole wisdom of the
Third Age, which we have already sufficiently described,
and need not further refer to at present. On the
second supposition there are, on the other hand, two, or it
may be, three cases. Namely, this self-existent and active
Thought is either the mere Sensuous Individuality of Man
clothing itself in the form of Thought, and is thus still a
mere sensuous desire, only disguised, and therefore not re
cognised as such, and then it is Mysticism : or, it is
Pure Thought flowing forth from itself without any de
pendence on Sense, not recognising individual persons,
but always comprehending the Race, as we have already
sufficiently described it in our second, third, and fourth
lectures; i.e. the Idea. Is it the Idea which is present?
then again, as we have already said, it may manifest
itself in two different ways : either, in one of its primi
tive forms which we previously indicated ; and in this
case it struggles irresistibly onward to direct outward
activity, streams forth in the personal life of the man,
extinguishing all his sensuous impulses and desires ; and
then he is an Artist, Hero, Man of Science, or Religious
Man ; or, the same Pure Thought may manifest itself
in its absolute unity ; and then it is easily recognisable as
the one, perfectly clear, and undisturbed thought of the
Higher Reason, which in itself impels to no activity in
the World of Sense, but only to free activity in the World
of Pure Thought; or, in other words, is true and genuine
Speculation. Mysticism will not of itself act in direct

132 LECTUKE VIII.

opposition to the Life in the Idea ; bat that it may act
in conformity with it, requires a specific determination
of the will moved thereto by desire. Thus Mysticism is
still Speculation ; it does not, however, comprehend the
Race as such but only Individuality, because it proceeds
only from the Individual and refers only to that whereon
the life of the Individual depends, namely, to Physical
Nature, and it is thus necessarily Speculation founded
on Nature (Natur-Spekulation) Hence the Life in the
Idea, which the uneducated man presumes to call Mys
ticism, is in reality very widely and distinctly separated
from Mysticism. We have already sufficiently distinguished
Mysticism from true and genuine Speculation ; but in
order that we may be able to distinguish this true and
genuine Speculation from its opposite, that of the
Mystic, with reference to the Philosophy of Nature (Natur~
Philosophic), we ought to be already in possession of
the former, and this is not the business of the unlearned
public. Upon this matter, and therefore upon the
ultimate principles of Nature, no true Scholar will
think of communicating with the general public; the
Speculative theory of Nature presupposes scientific culture,
and can only be comprehended by the scientific intellect ;
and the general and unlearned public never stands in
need of it. But with respect to that whereon the true
Scholar can and ought to communicate with the general
public, with respect to Ideas, there is an infallible test
whereby this public may determine for itself whether any
doctrine which is presented to it is, or is not, mere
Mysticism. Let it be asked, Has this doctrine a direct
and immediate bearing on action, or does it rest on a
fixed and immovable constitution of things ? Thus,
for example, the question which I put to you at the
beginning of these lectures, and upon the assumed
answer to which, the whole of my subsequent discourses
have proceeded as their true principle : this question,

MYSTICISM AS A PHENOMENON OF THE THIRD AGE. 133

whether you could refrain from approving, respecting,
and admiring a Life wholly devoted to the Idea ? this
question refers exclusively to an action, and to your
judgment upon that action ; and therefore, while we were
elevated above the world of mere sensuous Experience,
it is evident that there was nevertheless nothing of
Mysticism in our inquiries. To adduce a still more marked
example: The Doctrine of a Perfect God; in whose
nature nothing arbitrary or changeable can have a place;
in whose Highest Being we all live, and in this Life
may and ought at all times to be blessed ; this Doc
trine, which ignorant men think they have sufficiently
demolished when they have proclaimed it to be Mys
ticism, is bv no means Mysticism, for it has an immediate
reference to human action, and indeed to the inmost
spirit which ought to inspire and guide all our actions.
It can only become Mysticism when it is associated
with the pretext that the insight into this truth proceeds
from a certain inward and mysterious light, which is
not accessible to all men, but is bestowed only upon a few
favourites chosen from among the rest : in which pretext
the real Mysticism consists, for it betrays a self-complacent
assumption of personal merit, and a pride in mere sensuous
Individuality. Thus Mysticism, besides the essential and
inward criterion which can only be thoroughly discovered
by true Speculation, has also an outward mark by which it
may be recognised ; this, namely, that it is never a
Moral or Religious Philosophy, to both of which it is,
in its true character, wholly antagonistic ; (what it calls
Religion is only a deification of Nature) but it is always
a mere Philosophy of Nature ; that is, it strives to
discover, or believes that it has discovered, certain mys
terious and hitherto inconceivable properties in the
principles of Nature, by the employment of which it
endeavours to produce effects surpassing the ordinary
course of things. Such, I say, is Mysticism, neces-

134 LECTUHE VIII.

sarily such by reason of its vital principle ; and such it
has always been in reality. Let us not be deceived by
the frequent promises it has held forth of introducing us
to the secrets of the Spirit- World, and revealing to us the
charm whereby we may spell-bind and enthral Angel and
Archangel, or even God himself; the purpose of all this
has been only to employ such knowledge for the production
of results in the world of sense ; and these spiritual exist
ences have therefore never been regarded as such, but only
as powers of Nature. The end has always been to discover
some charm, some magical spell. If we consider the
matter strictly, as I do here, and do it advisedly, in
order by this example, at least, to make myself perfectly
clear and intelligible; if, I say, we consider the matter
strictly, the system of Religion which was described in
our last lecture, which proceeds upon the conception of
an Arbitrary God, and admits an interposition between
Him and man, and believes that, through the efficacy
of a ratified Covenant, either by observation of certain
"arbitrary, and, so far as their purpose is concerned, un
intelligible laws, or by an historical belief equally unin
telligible as regards its end, it can redeem itself from
any farther inflictions on the part of God ; this Religion
itself, I say, is such a system of mystical enchantment,
in which God is contemplated, not as the Holy One, to be
separated from whom is, in itself and without farther
consequence, the greatest of all evils ; but only as a
dreadful power of Nature, threatening man with its
devastating visitations, whose agencies, however, we have
now discovered the means of rendering harmless, or
even of diverting to our own purposes.

This which we have now described, and, I think, suffi
ciently defined and distinguished from all other things
wherewith it may be associated, is Mysticism in general ;
and wherever it manifests itself, it must do so with those
characteristics which we have now set forth : it estab-

MYSTICISM AS A PHENOMENON OF THE THIRD AGE. 135

lishes itself in the way we have now described wherever
it is mere nature. In the case in which we have here to
speak of it, as the reaction of the Third Age against
itself, it is not mere nature but chiefly Art. It proceeds
from deliberate opposition to the principle of the Third
Age ; from dissatisfaction with the recognised emptiness
and impotence of that Age ; from the opinion that man
can save himself from this emptiness and impotence only
by means of the principle directly opposed to the com
monly received notion of the comprehensibility of all
things, i. e. by the Incomprehensible ; and from the de
termination which arises therefrom, to establish such an
Incomprehensible. Further, there is in the Third Age,
and in all natures which proceed from it, but little energy
to be applied to this Mysticism. How then do its ad
herents establish this Incomprehensible, and summon up
the amount of Mysticism which they actually exhibit ?
They proceed in this way : They set to work to invent
some imaginary theory as to the hidden principles of Na
ture, for it is the invariable habit of the Mystic to place
Nature before him as his object ; he admits whatever
fancies may occur to his mind, and entertains those among
them which are most agreeable to him ; stimulating him
self, should such fancies not flow so readily as he desires,
by means of physical appliances, the recognised and
established support of all Artists in Mysticism, in ancient
and modern times, amongst rude and civilized people ;
a means through which the clearness, discretion, and free
dom which belong to genuine Speculation, and which de
mand the highest degree of temperance, are infallibly lost,
and from the use of which, for the sake of production, we
may at once and with certainty conclude that what is
produced is not true Speculation but mere Mysticism. If
even with the aid of these accessories the veins of fancy still
do not flow with sufficient fulness, recourse is had to the
writings of former Mystics. The more singular and the

136 LECTURE VIII.

more decried these writings are, the better ; for, according
to their principles, everything is good in proportion as it
departs from the prevailing spirit of the Age; and with
these extraneous fancies they now decorate their own
imperfect conceits, if indeed they do not take credit for
them as their own. I may remark in passing, what can
not be denied, that among these fancies of the old and
now decried Mystics, there are many admirable and genial
thoughts; and we have even no wish to deny that amono-
the more modern of them also there may be found many
excellent expressions; but these gleams of genius are
always surrounded by errors, and are never clear in them
selves : in order to discover the beauties contained in
these writings, the reader must bring similar excellencies
with him to their study, and no one will learn from them
who was not already wiser than they when he sat down
to their perusal.

All Mysticism goes forth in a kind of enchantment;
this is its invariable characteristic. What form of this
art-magic, then, does that kind of Mysticism of which we
now speak, exhibit? Only its Scientific form; at least
we now speak only of the scientific Mysticism of the Age ;
although there is doubtless another Mysticism of Art, as
well as one of Life, which we may perhaps characterize at
another time. This scientific Mysticism must therefore
endeavour to produce some extraordinary and magical
effect in science something wholly impossible in the or
dinary course of Nature. What then ? Science is either
a priori or empirical. To comprehend a priori Science,
partly as creating the world of Ideas, and partly as deter
mining the world of Nature so far as it does determine it ;
there is needed calm dispassionate thought, ceaselessly
examining, correcting and explaining itself ; and it re
quires time and labour, and half a life of devoted endeavour,
to produce anything remarkable after all. This is too well
known for any one to dream of the influences of enchant-

MYSTICISM AS A PHENOMENON OF THE THIRD AGE. 137

ment here ; hence the Mystics look upon themselves as
excluded from this province, and whatever they may re
quire from it for the frame-work of their own productions,
they can borrow from others, and elaborate after their
own fashion so that no one may be able to recognise it ;
and they may the more securely reckon upon conceal
ment if they abuse him whom they plunder while they
are plundering him. Empiricism still remains. In so
far as this is purely empirical, by separation from all that is
a priori in Nature, it is the common opinion, which may
indeed be the right one, that this province can only be in
vestigated by way of experiment, and that every inquirer
must in the first place acquire an historical acquaintance
with what is already known, and carefully test it again for
himself, and can only hope to arrive at any new result by
means of new experiments based upon an intelligent sur
vey of the whole existing stores of Experience. This
however is too tedious, and demands time and persevering
exertion ; and there are too many skilful fellow-labourers
who might anticipate our discoveries ; so that we might
labour on to the end of our lives without getting credit
for originality. Here some charm might be applied ; and
it is necessary to have one. Here therefore the Mystic
attempts to penetrate, by v a direct incursion of fancy, to
the secret principles of Nature, and thus to supersede the
course of laborious study and the troublesome method
of experiment which peradventure might overturn all his
previously formed systems.

On account of the universal propensity of human nature
for the Wonderful, this scheme cannot fail to attract general
attention and to call forth ardent enthusiasm. Although
old men who have already travelled this path of laborious
study, and perhaps have themselves produced fortunate and
fruitful experiments, may see with some jealousy their
former labours regarded as fruitless and inglorious, the re
sults brought to light by their experiments demonstrated

138 LECTURE VIII.

a priori in a few sentences, and proved to have been at
tainable in other ways, this phase of the Wonderful not
having yet appeared when they were young ; the more
welcome to those who have not yet entered upon this path
of study, but now stand at the point whence according to
former usage they must enter upon it, will be the promise
of being safely lifted over it in the course of a few para
graphs. Should there, after all, no miracle ensue, as is the
common fate of such magic arts; should no new empirical
knowledge arise, and the Faithful remain exactly as wise or
as ignorant as they were before; should it be obvious, at
least to every one who is not blind, that whatever is
essential in any particular instance actually brought for
ward has not been deduced a priori, nor even attained
by any course of reasoning, but has been already known
by means of previous experiment, and is now only com
pressed into an allegorical form, in which compression
the pretended deduction consists ; should the wonder
worker himself neither satisfy the demand which must of
necessity be made upon him to authenticate his higher
mission by at least one fulfilled prophecy, nor even pro
duce, as he ought, a single experiment never before made
either by himself or others in some region unattainable
by means of inference from previous experiment, the re
sults of which, distinctly announced by himself beforehand,
shall be found coincident with its actual fulfilment, but
should proceed, like all false prophets, to prophesy the
result a priori after its accomplishment has taken place;
should all this unquestionably have occurred, yet will
the assured Faith of the Adept never waver; to-day in
deed the process has not succeeded, but on the seventh,
or on the ninth da,y, it will infallibly succeed.

To this stimulus of applause, there is added another very
powerful one. The human mind, left to itself without dis
cipline or education, would neither be idle nor industrious;
were a middle state between these two discovered, that

MYSTICISM AS A PHENOMENON OF THE THIRD AGE. 139

were the proper thing for it. To remain idle altogether
and do nothing is too tiresome ; and if one has unfor
tunately made study his business, it is to be feared that in
such a case he might learn nothing, which again is un
pleasant, especially on account of its consequences. Real
Thought and Speculation are troublesome and unpro
ductive ; truly to learn anything demands indeed an
effort of attention and memory. Imagination steps in.
Let a successful master once bring this power into play,
and how can he fail if he be a Mystic, since Mysticism is
always sure to lay hold of the unguarded and inexperi
enced ? then Imagination pursues its way without farther
trouble to its possessor, quickens into life, assumes new
and varied forms, and thus puts on the appearance of a
vigorous activity without the smallest trouble on our
part ; bold and adventurous thoughts make their appear
ance in our minds without we ourselves being called on to
think at all; and study is changed into the most pleasant
business in the world. And then, above all, the glorious
results ! when scarcely released from school, or even
while still there, to confront the most approved men in the
land with brilliant thoughts, which they indeed, too well
acquainted with the nature of true knowledge, have never
dreamed of! and to be able to shrug our shoulders at their
momentary embarrassment on account of our absolute k>--
norance, as at a confession of their own weakness, and so
pass on pluming ourselves on our fancied superiority !

During the course of this description we have not been
ignorant, nor have we overlooked the fact, that absolutely
unscientific men may probably pass the same judgment on
the labours of genuine Speculation and its friends. We
grant that, since they must hold all Speculation to be Mys
ticism, there being absolutely nothing in existence for
them but Experience, they are perfectly right in doing
so according to their own view; and, on the other Land,
since we maintain the existence of a world lying beyond all

140 LECTURE vur.

Experience, and at the same time, and precisely on account
of this a priori world and as a consequence of it, contend
also for the existence of an Experience which must always
remain Experience, so we for our part cannot fitly express
in any other way the censure which is called forth by the
analogous error, that of introducing & pretended Specu
lation into the legitimate domain of Experience. Gene
rally speaking, however, the mere expression is of little
moment ; but it is of moment that one understand the
subject under discussion, and can venture to give a reason
to him who does understand it ; and to this extent, we
believe that we have vindicated our pretensions, were it
only by what we have said to-day. It is allowable publicly
to remain silent upon such obvious folly as does riot force
its way into our more immediate presence ; and we should
not, even in this narrow circle, have wasted upon such a
subject the few words which we have spoken to-day,
had not the completeness of our undertaking required
us to do so.

In fine, this seems to be the spirit of the particular
period of our Age in which we live : the system of
mere naked Experience as the only legitimate source of
Truth may be supposed to be on the decline, and on
the contrary, the system of Mysticism which, by means
of a pretended Speculation, seeks to dislodge Experience
even from its own legitimate province, now begins to
bear sway with all its revolutionary consequences, in
order to inflict a fearful retribution on the Race which
gave itself up to the former delusion. It is in vain to
seek a remedy against this movement, for it is now a
necessary tendency of the Age, and is besides equipt
with all that is most attractive to the Age. Happy the
wise man who can rise superior to his Age and to all
Time ! who knows that Time is nothing in itself, and
that there is a Higher Guidance securely leading our
Race, amid all its apparent wanderings, to the true end
of its existence !

(141)

LECTURE IX.

THE ORIGIN AND LIMITS OF HISTORY.

THE Scientific constitution of the Third Age has been suffi
ciently described in our former lectures, partly in itself, and
partly by means of antecedent and succeeding conditions.
The remaining characteristics and peculiarities of any
Age depend upon its Social condition, and especially
upon the State, and are to be defined thereby. Therefore
we cannot proceed with our delineation of the Third Age,
until we have seen to what stage of its development the
State has attained in this Age, of course in the countries
of the highest Culture, to what extent the Absolute
Idea of the State is therein expressed and realized, and
how far it is not.

In none of the relations of Humanity does our Race
possess less real liberty, and in none is it more hindered and
obstructed, than in the constitution of the State, which
being chiefly determined by the common condition of man
kind, checks the activity of men of the highest wisdom,
and sets limits to the realization of their plans. The
political constitution of an Age is therefore the result of
its earlier fortunes, whereby its present condition has
been determined, which in turn determines its constitu
tion; hence this constitution cannot be understood in
the way in which we shall endeavour here to understand

142 LECTURE IX.

that of our own Age except through the History of the
Age. But here we meet with a new difficulty, this,
namely : our Age is far from being at one with itself
in its view of History, and still farther from agreement
with that view which we, who are guided by Reason as
Knowledge, take of History, which view it cannot even
understand. It is therefore unavoidably necessary that
we should, in the first place, set forth our own view in
a general way, and justify it, before making those appli
cations of it which are afterwards to occupy our attention-
and to this purpose we shall devote our present lecture.
It is so much the more incumbent upon us to enter upon
this exposition, inasmuch as History is itself a part of
Knowledge, and ranks with Physics as the second depart
ment of Empiricism ; and we have already expressed
ourselves distinctly on the nature of these Sciences
while we have given only a passing glance to History. In
this respect our present lecture still belongs to that part of
our undertaking which comprises a picture of Scientific
existence in. general; closing that division of our plan,
and opening up a passage to a new portion of it.

Not by any means with the view of leading your judg
ment captive beforehand, but, on the contrary, that I may
incite you to its more vigorous exercise, I have to intimate,
that I shall here give utterance to nothing but what, in my
opinion, must become evident to you at once by its own
immediate clearness ; of which there may be ignorance,
but with respect to which, when once announced, there
can be no dispute.

I begin my definition of the nature of History with a
metaphysical principle, the strict proof of which I am pre
vented from adducing solely by the popular nature of our
present discourses, but which recommends itself directly
to the natural sense of Truth in man, and without the
adoption of which we could arrive at no firm foundation
in the whole field of Knowledge ; with this principle,

THE ORIGIN AND LIMITS OF HISTORY. 143

namely : Whatever actually exists, exists of absolute
necessity ; and necessarily exists in the precise form in
which it does exist ; it is impossible that it should not exist,
or exist otherwise than as it does. Hence, to whatever
possesses real existence we cannot attribute any begin
ning, any mutability, or any arbitrary cause. The One,
True, and Absolutely Self-Existent Being, is that which
all voices call by the name, God. The Existence of
God is not the mere foundation, cause, or anything else
of Knowledge, so that the two could be separated from
each other; but it is absolutely Knowledge itself: His
Existence and Knowledge are absolutely one and the
same thing; He exists in Knowledge, precisely as He
exists in His own Being, as absolute self-sufficient
Power; and thus when we say His Existence is ab
solute, and Knowledge has absolute Existence/ the
meaning is exactly the same. This principle, which is
here announced merely in the form of a result, may be
made thoroughly clear in the higher walks of Speculation.
But further : a World has no Existence but in Know
ledge, and Knowledge itself is the World ; and thus the
World, by means of Knowledge, is the Divine Existence
in its mediate or indirect manifestation ; while Know
ledge itself is the same Divine Existence in its direct
or immediate manifestation. If therefore any one should
say that the World might also not exist ; that at one time
it actually did not exist; that at another time it arose out
of nothing; that it came into existence by an arbitrary act
of God, which act He might have left undone had He so
pleased; it is just the same as if he should say, that God
might also not exist; that at onetime He actually did not
exist; that at another time He came into existence out of
non-existence, and determined Himself to be by an arbi
trary act of will, which He might have left undone had He
so pleased. This Being, then, of whom we now speak, is
the Absolute Being, transcending all Time; and whatever

144 LECTURE IX.

is comprehended in this Idea is only to be perceived a
priori in the world of Pure Thought, and is invariable
and unchangeable throughout all Ages.

Knowledge is, as we have said, the manifestation, utter
ance, and perfect representative of Divine Power. It
exists therefore for itself; i.e. Knowledge becomes Self-
Consciousness; and in this Self-Consciousness it is its
own peculiar, self-sustaining power, freedom, and activity
because it is a manifestation of Divine Power; and it
is all this as Knowledge constantly developing itself
throughout Eternity to higher inward purity, by means
of its action upon a certain Object of Knowledge, from
which this progress takes its beginning. This Object
manifests itself as a definite something which might have
been different from what it is ; for this reason, that it
exists and is yet not understood in its primitive origin;
and Knowledge has throughout Eternity to unfold its
own inward power in the comprehension of this Object ;
and in this progressive development we have the origin
of Time.

This Object of Knowledge comes into view only in con
sequence of the previous existence of Knowledge, and
thus lies within the limits of that existence as already
set forth; it is therefore an Object of mere perception,
and can only be understood empirically. It is the one,
persistent, and abiding Object, towards the comprehension
of which Knowledge must strive throughout Eternity : in
this abiding and objective unity it is called Nature ; and
the Empiricism which is systematically directed upon it
is called Physics. On this Object, Knowledge unfolds
itself in a continuous succession of Eras ; and the Empi
ricism which is systematically directed upon the fulfilment
of this succession of Eras is called History. Its object is
the development of Knowledge on the Unknown ; a de
velopment which at all times remains unexhausted.

Thus the Being and Existence which lies beyond all

THE ORIGIN AND LIMITS OF HISTORY. 145

Time is in no way contingent ; and no theory of its origin
can be given either by the Philosopher or by the Histo
rian : the Actual Existence in Time, on the contrary,
appears as if it might have been otherwise, and therefore
as contingent ; but this appearance of contingency arises
only from our ignorance ; and the Philosopher may say,
generally, that the Unknown, as well as the infinite steps
towards its comprehension, exists as it does exist, only
that it may be so conceived of; but he cannot, by means
of such a series of conceptions, at all define the Unknown,
or deduce it from its primitive elements, as in that
case he must have comprehended Infinity itself, which
is absolutely impossible. Here therefore is his limit ;
and should he wish to acquire knowledge in this de
partment, he is thus plainly directed to Empiricism for
it. Just as little can the Historian set forth this Un
known, in his genesis, as the origin of Time. His business
is to point out the successive modifications of actual Em
pirical Existence. He must therefore assume beforehand
this Empirical Existence itself, and all its possible condi
tions. What these conditions of Empirical Existence are,
and thus, what is presupposed in the mere possibility of
History, and must be first of all before History can even
find a beginning ; this is the business of the Philosopher,
who has, in the first place, to secure a firm foundation and
starting-point for the Historian. To speak quite popular
ly on this point; Has man been created? then he
could not have been present, at least with consciousness,
at that event, or have been able to observe how he passed
over from non-existence into existence ; nor can he relate
it as a fact to posterity. But, it is said, the Creator has
revealed it to him. I answer : In that case the Creator
would have abolished the Unknown whereon the existence
of man himself depends ; He would thus have destroyed
man again immediately after his creation ; and, as the
existence of the world and of man is inseparable from the

t

146 LECTURE IX.

Divine Existence itself, He would at the same time have
destroyed Himself; which is entirely opposed to Reason.

As to the origin of the world and of the Human Race,
then, neither the Philosopher nor the Historian has any
thing to say ; for there is absolutely no such origin : there
is only the One Necessary Being, raised above all Time.
As to the necessary conditions of Actual Existence which
lie beyond all Actual Existence itself, and therefore be
yond Empiricism ; of them the Philosopher has to give
an account ; and should the Historian in his early re
searches touch upon such themes, he must distinctly un
derstand that they belong not to the province of History,
but to that of Philosophy, it may be in the old simple
form of narrative, in which form it is called Myth; and
he must here acknowledge the jurisdiction of Reason,
which in matters of Philosophy is the only judge, and not
endeavour to sway us by the imposing word Fact. The
factj often most fruitful and instructive, is here simply
that such a Myth has been.

Having thus fixed the boundaries which separate Philo
sophy and History, I shall now proceed, in the next place,
to define generally the conditions of Empirical Existence
which are presupposed in the possibility of History.

Knowledge necessarily divides itself in consciousness,
into a consciousness of many individuals and persons : a
division which is strictly deduced from its first principle
in the Higher Philosophy. As surely as Knowledge ex
ists, and this is as sure as that God exists, for it is His
Existence itself, so surely does Humanity also exist, and
that in the form of a Human Race consisting of many
individual members ; and since the condition of the social
life of men is intercourse by means of speech, this Human
Race is also provided with the implement of Language.
No History, therefore, should undertake to explain the
origin of the Human Race in general, nor of its social life,
nor of its language. Further, it is a part of the essential

THE ORIGIN AND LIMITS OF HISTORY. 147

vocation of Humanity that in this, its first life on Earth, it
should train itself up with freedom to become an outward
manifestation of Reason. But out of nothing, nothing
can arise ; and thus Unreason can never become Reason.
Hence, in one point of its existence, at least, the Human
Race must have been purely Reasonable in its primi
tive form, without either constraint or freedom. In one
point of its existence, at least, I say ; for the true purpose
of its existence does not consist in being Reasonable, but
in becoming Reasonable by its own freedom ; and the for
mer is only the means and the indispensable condition of
the latter : we are therefore entitled to no more extensive
conclusion than that the condition of Absolute Reason
ableness must have been somewhere extant. From this
conclusion we are forced to admit the existence of an ori
ginal Normal People, who by the mere fact of their exist
ence, without Science or Art, found themselves in a state
of perfectly developed Reason. But there is nothing to
hinder us from also admitting that there lived at the
same time dispersed over the whole earth, timid and rude
Earth born Savages without any Culture but what was
necessary for the preservation of their mere sensuous ex
istence; for the purpose of the life of the Human Race
is only to cultivate itself according to Reason, and it would
be quite practicable to carry out this process among the
Earth born Savages by means of the Normal People.

As an immediate consequence of this position, no His
tory should attempt to explain the origin of Culture in
general, nor the Population of the different regions of the
Earth. The laboured hypotheses, especially on the last
point, which are accumulated in books of travels, are, in
our opinion, trouble and labour lost. But there is nothing
from which History, as well as a certain half-philosophy,
should more carefully guard itself than- the altogether
irrational and fruitless attempt to raise Unreason to
Reason by a gradual lessening of its degree ; and, given

148 LECTURE IX.

only a sufficient range of centuries, to produce at last a
Leibnitz or a Kant as the descendant of an Ourang-
Outang.

History takes cognisance only of the New, the Won
derful; that which may be contrasted with what has
gone before, and what shall follow it. On this account
there was no History among the Normal People, and
there is no History of them. Under the guidance of their
Instinct, one day passed away like another ; and one indi
vidual life like all the rest. Everything shaped itself
spontaneously according to order and morality. There
could even be no Science or Art ; Religion alone adorned
their existence, and gave the simple uninformed mind a
relation to the Eternal. As little could there be a History
among the Earth born Savages ; for with them, likewise,
one day passed away like another, with only this dif
ference, that on one day they found food in abundance
while on another they could obtain nothing ; prostrated
the one day from indulgence and on the next from ener
vation ; to awaken again, in either case, to the same
unchanging round which led to no result.

Had things remained in this state ; had the absolute
Culture, which however did not look upon itself as Cul
ture but only as Nature, remained separate from the
surrounding Barbarism, then no History could have arisen;
and, what is still more important, the end of the existence
of the Human Race could not have been attained. The
Normal People must therefore, by some occurrence or other,
have been driven away from their habitations, all access
to which was thenceforth cut off; and must have been dis
persed over the seats of Barbarism. Now for the first time
could the process of the free development of the Human
Race begin ; and with it, History, the record of the
Unexpected and the New, which accompanies such a
process. For now, for the first time, the dispersed descen
dants of the Normal People perceived with astonishment

THE ORIGIN AND LIMITS OF HISTORY. 14-9

that all things were not, of necessity, such as they were
with them ; but might be otherwise having indeed dis
covered them to be otherwise in reality ; and the Earth-
born, after they had been awakened to conscious intelligence,
had a great deal even more wonderful to record. In this
conflict of Culture with Barbarism, the germs of all Ideas
and all Science, except Religion, which is as old as the
world itself, and is inseparable from the existence of the
world, unfolded themselves, as the power and means of
leading Barbarism to Culture.

Far from History being able reasonably to raise her
voice on the subject of her own birth, all that has now
been set forth is presupposed in the mere existence of
History. Inferences from a state of things amid which
it has had its beginning, as to what has preceded that
state, especially inferences from the Myths which are
already in actual existence, and in so far have them
selves become facts, particularly when such inferences
are in accordance with Logic, should be thankfully
accepted. But let us bear in mind that they are in
ferences and not History ; and should we desire to ex
amine more closely the form of the inference, let us not be
scared back by the bugbear Fact. Let this be our first
incidental observation ; and let the second be as follows :
Every one who is capable of a survey of History as a
w hole, which however is always rarer than a knowledge
of its individual curiosities ; and who in particular is able
to comprehend what is universal, eternal, and unchanging
in it, might in such a survey obtain a clear view of some
of the most important problems of History ; for example,
how the existence of races of men, differing so much
from each other in colour and physical structure, is
possible ; why it is that at all times, down even to the
present day, civilization is always spread by means of
foreign incomers, who encounter aboriginal inhabitants
in a state of greater or lesser Barbarism ; whence arises

150 LECTURE IX.

the inequality among men discoverable wherever History
lias a beginning ; and so forth.

All that we have now set forth are necessary conditions
of the existence of a Human Race ; the latter, however,
must absolutely be ; and hence the former must have been ;
so far Philosophy informs us. Now all this is not merely
a general supposition, but these things must further have
had a definite existence; for example, with regard to what
we have said above, the existence of the Normal People
is not a mere general supposition, but they must have ex
isted in one particular region of the earth and in no other;
although, so far as appears to us, they might have existed
elsewhere; they had a language, which of course was con
stituted according to the fundamental laws of all language,
but which possessed besides an element which appears to
us as if it might have been otherwise, and therefore as an
arbitrary element. Here Philosophy is at an end, because
the Comprehensible is at an end ; and what is Incompre
hensible in the present life begins. Here accordingly
Empiricism enters the field, which in this connexion is
named History; and the subordinate phenomena, which
only in their general nature can be deduced from a
priori principles, would now present themselves in their
special and particular character as facts, without any
explanation of their genesis, if they were not necessarily
-concealed from the view of History by other causes.

This much, however, follows from what has now been
said : History is mere Empiricism ; it has only facts to
communicate, and all its proofs are founded upon facts
alone. To attempt to rise from such facts to Primeval
History, or to argue how such or such a thing might
have been, and then to take for granted that it has been
so in reality, is to stray beyond the limits of History,
and produce an a priori History; just as the Philosophy of
Nature, referred to in our preceding lecture, endeavoured
to find an a priori Science of Physics.

THE ORIGIN AND LIMITS OF HISTORY. 151

The evidence of facts proceeds in the following manner:
First of all, there is a fact which has come down to our own
time, which may be seen with our eyes, heard with our
ears, and felt with our hands. This can be understood only
on the supposition of an earlier fact no longer perceptible
to us. Hence such an earlier fact is admitted as having
been once perceptible. This rule, that we can accept as
proved only so much of the earlier fact as is absolutely ne
cessary for the comprehension of the now-existing fact, is
to be taken strictly; for it is only to the Understanding, and
by no means to the Imagination, that we can concede any
value in historical evidence. Why then should we attempt
to educe and define the earlierfact further than is absolutely
requisite for the explanation of the present ? In all Sciences,
and particularly in History, it is of greater importance to
understand distinctly how much we do not know than to
fill up the void with fiction and conjecture. For example,
I read a work which is said to be Cicero s, and till now has
been universally acknowledged to be his : this is the fact of
the Present. The earlier fact to be detected herein is this:
Whether the particular Cicero who is distinctly known
to us by means of other history did actually write this
work. I go through the whole series of evidence lying in
the interval of time between me and Cicero; but I know
that herein error and illusion are possible, and this external
proof of authenticity is not in itself decisive. I turn there
fore to the internal characteristics : Is it the style, the mode
of thinking of a man who lived at that time, who filled such
a station in society, and was surrounded by such circum
stances ? Suppose I find these things so, then the evidence
is complete : it is not possible to conceive that this
book, as it now exists, could have existed if Cicero had
not written it : he was the only man who could write
it thus ; therefore he has written it.

Another instance: I read the first chapters of the so-
called first book of Moses, and, as must be presupposed, I

152 LECTURE IX.

understand them. Whether it was Moses who composed
them; or, since this, from internal evidence, may he ob-
viously impossible, whether it was he who collected them
from mere verbal tradition and placed them on record; or
whether it was Ezra, or some still later writer ; is of no
importance to me here : it is even of no importance
to me in this case whether any such person as Moses
or Ezra ever lived ; nor do I care to know how this
composition has been preserved ; fortunately it has been
preserved, and this is the main point. I perceive by its
contents that it is a Myth concerning the Normal People
in opposition to another merely Earth born People ; and
concerning the religion of the Normal People and their
dispersion ; and of the origin of the Jehovah- Worship,
among the adherents of which the primitive religion of
the Normal People was once more to re-appear, and
through them to be spread over the whole world. I
conclude from the contents of this Myth that it must
be older than all History, since from the commencement
of the historic period down to the time of Jesus there
was none able even to understand much less to invent
it; and also because I find the same Myth everywhere
repeated as the mythical beginning of the History of
all nations ; although in a more fabulous and sensuous
form. The existence of this Myth, before all other His
tory, is the first fact of History, and its true beginning ;
and therefore it cannot be explained by means of any
previous fact : the contents of this Myth are thus not
History but Philosophy, and a belief in it is no further
obligatory on any one than as it is confirmed by his own
investigations.

We have said before, that if the true end of the Ex
istence of the Human Race was to be attained it was
necessary that the Normal People should be dispersed
over the seats of Barbarism : and now, for the first time,
there occurred something new and remarkable, which

THE ORIGIN AND LIMITS OF HISTORY. 153

aroused the memory of Man for its preservation ; now,
for the first time, could History, properly so called, have
a beginning ; for it can do no more than collect in the
shape of facts, and by means of mere Empiricism, that
gradual civilization of the Actual Human Race of His
tory which is produced by the admixture of the original
Culture with the original Barbarism. In this province,
for the first time, the historical Art, the fundamental
principle of which we have stated above, comes into
play for the discovery and collection of facts ; and to enable
us to comprehend clearly and completely the actual con
dition of the Present Time, particularly in so far as it
may lead us to the discovery of previous facts, as well
as to perceive distinctly under the condition of what
earlier facts alone the present can be understood. It
is here particularly necessary to dismiss altogether the
delusive notion of probability which, taking its rise in
a feeble Philosophy, has thence spread over every other
science, and especially has found a secure refuge in
History. The Probable, because it is only probable, is
for that very reason not true; and why should we
concede any place whatever in Science to the untrue?
Strictly speaking, the Probable is what would be true if
such and such principles, evidences, and facts which are
awanting, could be produced. If we are of opinion that
these absent proofs may be recovered, perhaps by the
discovery of lost documents, or the digging up of hidden
volumes, we may then properly enough note down these
probabilities, so that their substance may not be lost,
distinguishing them by this mark, mere probabilities,
accompanied with a notice of what is requisite to
establish their truth ; but we must by no means
fill up the gap between them and Truth by our
own too easy belief, and by the desire to prove an
hypothesis which we, as Historians, choose to advance
a priori

154 LECTURE IX.

The History of this gradual Culture of the Human Race,
as History properly so called, is again made up of two in
timately connected elements ; one a priori, and the other
a posteriori. The a priori is the World-Plan, the general
features of which we have set forth in our first lecture,
conducting Humanity through the Five Epochs already
enumerated. Without historical information at all the
Thinker may know that these Epochs, as we have de
scribed them, must succeed each other, and may also be
able, in the same way, to characterize generally such of
them as have not yet taken their place in History as
facts. Now this development of the Human Race does
not take place at once, as the philosopher pictures it to
himself in thought, but, disturbed by foreign powers, it
takes place gradually, at different times, in different
places, and under particular circumstances. These con
ditions do not by any means arise from the Idea of the
World-Plan, but are unknown to it ; and since there is
no other Idea of a World-Plan, they are an Absolute
Unknown to Philosophy : and here begins the pure Em
piricism of History ; its a posteriori element ; History in
its own proper form.

The Philosopher who in his capacity of Philosopher
meddles with History follows the a priori course of the
World-Plan, which is clear to him without the aid of His
tory at all ; and the use which he makes of History is
not to prove anything by it, for his principles are already
proved independently of History ; but only to illustrate
and make good in the actual world of History, that
which is already understood without its aid. Through
out the whole course of events, therefore, he selects only
the instances in which Humanity really advances towards
the true end of its being, and appeals only to these
instances, laying aside and rejecting everything else;
and as he does not intend to prove historically that Hu
manity has to pursue this course, having already proved

THE OK1GJN AND LIMITS OF HISTORY. 155

it philosophically, he only points out, for the purposes
of illustration, the occasions on which this has been
visible in History. The mere Collector of Facts indeed
proceeds, and ought to proceed, quite differently. But
his business is not to be despised on account of its
opposition to Philosophy ; it is, on the contrary, highly
honourable if properly pursued. He has absolutely no
support, no guide, no fixed point, except the mere out
ward succession of years and centuries, wholly irrespective
of their significance ; and it is his business to declare

O >

all that can be discovered historically in any of these
Epochs of Time. He is an Annalist. Does anything
of this kind escape him 1 then he has transgressed the
rules of his art, and must endure the reproach of
ignorance or carelessness. Now in each of these Epochs,
which he distinguishes only by their succession in
Time, but not by means of their essential nature,
there lie, as only the Philosopher can tell him, or the
Annalist himself if he be a Philosopher may know, the
most diverse elements in immediate contact and inter
mixture ; the remnants of original Barbarism, or of an
original Culture which has passed away without com
munication ; remnants or else foreshadowings of all the
other four Epochs of Culture; and finally the actually
living and progressive Culture itself. The merely em
pirical Historian has to collect faithfully all these ele
ments just as he finds them, and to place them in order
beside each other : the Philosopher who uses History for
the purpose which we have here in view, has only to do
with the latter element, the actually living and pro
gressive movement of Culture, laying aside all the rest;
and thus the empirical Historian, who should judge him
according to the rules of his own art, and conclude that he
was ignorant of that which he had no occasion to produce,
would be at fault, for it is specially to be expected of the
Philosopher that he should not bring forward on every

156 LECTURE JX.

occasion all that he knows, but only so much as bears upon
the purpose in view. To make the distinction clear at
once : the Philosopher employs History only so far as it
serves his purpose, laying aside everything of which he
can make no use ; and I announce freely, that in the
following inquiry I shall employ it in this way. Such
a proceeding, which would be highly culpable in the
mere empirical study of History, and would indeed sub
vert the very nature of this science, is quite justifiable
in the Philosopher; for he has already, independently of
all History, proved the principles for the illustration of
which he makes use of History. He should indeed
deserve blame did he assert as fact that which had
never taken place; but he relies upon the results of
historical inquiry, of which results he employs only the
most general; and it would be a great misfortune to
historical inquiry itself, if so much as this were not
clearly established ; but he deserves no blame if he is
merely silent with respect to some things which may
nevertheless have taken place.. He endeavours to under
stand the true significance and meaning of such historical
events as are of universal importance ; and with regard
to them he calls to mind only the fact of their occur
rence; the manner in which they took place, which
doubtless implies many other facts, he leaves to the
empirical Historian. Should he find that, with his per
haps limited knowledge of historical details, he may
yet be able to understand and explain a fact in its
connexion with the whole World-Plan much better than
he who possesses a more extensive acquaintance with such
details, he need not be surprised at this, for only on this
account is he a Philosopher. In short, it is Necessity
which guides our Race, not by any means a mere blind
Necessity, but the living, conscious, and intelligent Ne
cessity of the Divine Life ; and only after we have come
under this gentle leading can we be truly free, and

THE ORIGIN AND LIMITS OF HISTORY. 157

interpenetrated with Life; for beyond this there is
nothing but Illusion and Unreality. Nothing is as it
is, because God wills it so arbitrarily, but because He
cannot manifest Himself otherwise than as he does.
To acknowledge this guidance, humbly to acquiesce
therein, and in the consciousness of this identity with
the Divine Power to attain true Blessedness, is the
business of all men ; to comprehend in clear intelligence
what is Universal, Absolute, Eternal, and Unchangeable
in this leading of the Human Race, is the business of
the Philosopher; to set forth the Actual Phenomena
of the inconstant and ever-changing spheres over which
with steadfast course it holds its way, is the business of
the Historian ; whose discoveries are only incidentally
employed by the former.

It is of course to be understood that the use which
we have partly made of History already, and partly
still intend to make of it, can be no other than this
its philosophical use, and cannot be looked at otherwise
than as we have described it to-day, I trust clearly
and distinctly. Our next task shall be to show how
the Idea of the State according to Reason gradually
became realized among men, and at what point of this
development of the Absolute State our own Age stands.
In order to confine ourselves very carefully within the
boundaries of our own Science, and not to give any
cause on our part for reviving the old dispute between
Philosophy and History, we shall not even give out that
which we have to state on this subject as ascertained
historical data, but only as hypotheses and distinct
questions for History, leaving it to the Historian to
bring them to the test of facts, and to inquire how far
they are confirmed thereby. Should our views prove
merely new and interesting, they may still give rise to
inquiries from which at least something also new and
interesting may come forth, if not exactly that which was

158 LECTURE IX.

hoped for; and so our trouble shall not be wholly
lost. Restricting ourselves to this modest desire, we
hope that we shall not lose the countenance even of the
Historian.

( 159 )

LECTURE X.

THE ABSOLUTE FORM OF THE STATE.

To show at what point of its development the State has
arrived in our own Age, is our next business as announced
in the last lecture. The intelligibility of the demonstration
which we have to make must evidently depend upon our
starting from a strictly defined conception of the State in
its Absolute Form.

There is nothing, especially in the Epoch in which we
live, about which more has been written, read, and
spoken, than about the State : therefore in all cultivated,
even if not exactly scientific society, we can reckon,
almost with certainty, upon a greater amount of existing
knowledge and opinion concerning the State than con
cerning any other subject. We must first of all declare,
especially with regard to what we intend to say here
upon this question, that we partly coincide with certain
well-known authors but upon other and profounder
principles than theirs ; while we differ from them again
in many important matters : and that the view of the
State most prevalent among German Philosophers is not
unknown to us, according to which the State ought to be
almost nothing more than a juridical institution ; a view
which we oppose with deliberate and well-considered de
termination. It is to be remembered, then, that we are

1GO LKCTURE X.

compelled to begin with some apparently uninteresting
principles, concerning which, all I can ask of you at
first is only to keep them in mind : but I trust that
before the end of this lecture these principles shall have
become quite clear, by means of farther definitions and
applications.

The Absolute State is in its form, according to our opi
nion, an artistic institution, intended to direct all indivi
dual powers towards the Life of the Race and to transfuse
them therein; and thus to realize and manifest in indivi
dual life the general form of the Idea, as we have already
sufficiently described it. Since the State cannot calculate
upon the inward life and the original activity of the Idea
in the minds of men, all life in Idea being of this latter
kind, as we have seen in our former lectures, and since
it rather operates outwardly upon individuals who feel no
desire, but on the contrary a reluctance, to offer up their
individual life for the Race, it follows that this institution
must be one of constraint. For those individuals in
whom the Idea has assumed a real inward life, and whose
wish and desire is nothing else than to offer up their lives
for the Race, no constraint is necessary and for them it
disappears; the State remains, with respect to them,
only that comprehensive Unity which continually watches
over the Whole, which points out and explains at all times
the first and nearest purpose of the Race, and arranges
the willing powers of man in their appropriate sphere of
action. It is an artistic institution, we have said : but it
is so, in the strictest sense of this word as an institution of
free and self-intelligent Art, only after it has scientifically
penetrated to its complete and perfect purpose in the
Age of Reason as Knowledge, and to the means for the
attainment of that purpose, when the Fifth Age of Rea
son as Art has begun. But there is also an order in Na
ture, that is, in the destiny of the Human Race, through
which it is led towards its true end without its own know-

THE ABSOLUTE FORM OF THE STATE. 161

or will ; which order might be called the Art of
Nature : and in this sense alone I call the State, in the
first Ages of the Human Race, an artistic institution.
What we have already set forth as the dedication of all
individual powers to the purpose of the Race, is the Ab
solute State according to its form ; i. e. the existence of
a State at all depends simply on the dedication of the
individual powers to a purpose of the Race whatever
that purpose of the Race may be. It remains, however,
quite undecided by this definition of the State, liow many
purposes of the Race to the attainment of which the
individual power is to be dedicated can be prosecuted
in particular States ; and it remains just as undecided
by this definition what is the absolute purpose of the Race,
by the disclosure of which the material of the State,
the true meaning and purpose of it, might be described.
And now, after these preliminary definitions, to examine
more closely the Idea which we have announced : In the
first place, the State which has to direct a necessarily
finite sum of individual powers towards the common pur
pose, must regard itself as a completed whole ; and, as its
common purpose is identical with that of the Human
Race, it must regard the aggregate of its citizens as the
Human Race itself. It is not irreconcilable with this
view that it may also entertain purposes connected with
others who are not numbered among its Citizens : for these
purposes will still be its own, undertaken merely on its
own account, those, namely, to the attainment of which
it directs the individual powers of its own Citizens ; and
in every case, therefore, it devotes these powers to itself,
considered as the Highest, as the Race. It is therefore the
same thing whether we say, as above, that the State directs
all individual powers towards the life of the Race ; or, as
here, that it directs them towards its own life as the State :
only that this latter expression first acquires its true mean
ing through the former, as we shall soon see.

x

162 LECTURE X.

Once more : the nature of the Absolute State consists
herein, that all individual powers be directed towards
the Life of the Race, in place of which Race the State
puts the aggregate of its own Citizens. It therefore be
comes necessary, first, that all Individuals, without excep
tion, should be embraced and taken into equal account by
the State ; and second, that every Individual with all his
individual powers, without exception or reserve, should be
likewise taken into account. In a State so constituted,
where all as Individuals are dedicated to the Race, it fol
lows at the same time, that all the Rights which belong
to them as component parts of the Race are dedicated to
all the other individual members of the State. For, to
what are the powers of all directed ? to the Race. But
what does the State hold as the representative of the
Race ? all its Citizens, without a single exception. Were
there some Individuals either not taken into account at
all in the common purpose, or not taken into account with
all their powers, while the rest were included, then the
former would enjoy all the advantages of the union with
out bearing all the attendant burdens, and there would
thus be inequality. Only where all without exception are
taken into account, is equality the result. Consequently,
in this constitution, the individuality of each absolutely
disappears in the community of all; and each one receives
back his contribution to the common power, strengthened
by the united powers of all the rest. The purpose of the
isolated Individual is his own enjoyment, and he uses his
power as the means of its attainment ; the purpose of
the Race is Culture, and the honourable subsistence
which is the condition of Culture : in the State, each In
dividual employs his powers, not for his own immediate
enjoyment, but for the purpose of the Race, and he receives
in return the whole united Culture of the Race, and there
with his own honourable subsistence. We must guard
ourselves, however, against regarding the State as if it

THE ABSOLUTE FORM OF THE STATE. 163

were dependent on this or that Individual, or on Indi
viduals generally, and were composed of them : almost the
only way in which ordinary philosophers are able to con
ceive of a Whole. The State, in itself, is an unseen
Idea ; just as the Race has been described in our former
lectures : it is not single Individuals, but their continu
ous relation to each other, the living and ever-changing
production of which is the work of Individuals as they
exist in space. To make my idea clear by an example :
The Rulers are by no means the State, but merely Citizens
like all the rest ; and there is absolutely no individual cha
racter in the State but that of Citizen. The Rulers/ as well
as all other Individuals, with all their individual powers,
are taken into account in order to direct the powers of the
governed, who no more than they constitute the State,
towards the common purpose, so far as they understand
it, and to enforce this purpose on all who are opposed to
it. Only that result which arises from their guidance and
the directed power of the governed taken together, do
we call the State in the strictest sense of the word.

Only one objection is here to be anticipated ; which I
meet directly. It may be said : Why then are all the powers
of Individuals to be taken into account in the purpose
of the State ? If this purpose might be attained at less
cost, would it not, in that case, be sufficient to secure
the desired equality that the necessary expenditure of
power should be equally divided among All; and the free
use of the superfluous power be left to the free will of
each Individual ? To which we reply : First of all, the
supposed case, that the united power of all Individuals
might not be necessary for the purpose of the State, can
never occur, and is impossible. Such powers of the In
dividual as are perhaps unknown to himself, and also
such as may be known to him but are unknown or un
available to the State, are indeed not to be taken into
account in the purpose of the State ; but all individual

164) LECTURE X.

power which is known and accessible to the State is
necessary to it for the furtherance of its purpose : its
purpose is Culture, and in order to maintain the position
to which a State has already attained, and to advance
still further, it requires at all times the exertion of every
-available power; for only through the united power of
All has it attained this position. Should it not take the
whole into account, it must recede instead of advancing,
and lose its position in the ranks of Culture : and what
would further arise out of this we shall see at another
time. Secondly, I ask, What would the Citizens do
with the remaining power which should in that case be
left for their free use ? Shall they remain idle and leave
this power unemployed ? This is contrary to every form
of Culture and is in itself Barbarism ; the cultivated man
cannot be inactive or unemployed beyond the necessary
period of rest required by his sensuous nature, and this
period of rest the State in any case would have left to
him. Or shall they apply this power for the advance
ment of their individual purposes? In a Perfect State
no just individual purpose can exist which is not in
cluded in the purposes of the Community, and for the
attainment of which the Community does not provide.
Should it finally be said, This power may be applied
by the Individual for the purpose of his own private and
undisturbed Culture; then my answer would be, There
is no kind of Culture which does not proceed from
society, that is from the State, in the strictest sense of
the word; and none on which it is not incumbent to
strive to return to the State again : this Culture is there
fore itself a purpose of the State, and its advancement
in each Individual according to his degree must have
already been taken into account in the Perfect State.
We shall afterwards take care that this shall not be
misunderstood in its application to the Actual State :
here we speak only of the Perfect State, and to it the

THE ABSOLUTE FORM OF THE STATE. 165

principle which we have laid down is applicable without
any limitation.

To raise themselves with freedom to this Absolute State,
as one of the conditions imposed by Reason on the Human
Race, is the vocation of Mankind. This gradual elevation
could take place neither in the state of Innocence among
the Normal People, nor in the state of original Barbarism
among the Savages.

Not among the former: there men found themselves in
the most perfect social relations, without need of any re
straint or superintendence : every one acted justly and for
the common advantage, spontaneously and without re
flection on his own part, or on the part of any one else for
him; and without this condition being first brought about
either by his own skill or by any process of nature : we
have here no trace of a new genesis. Neither could this
occur among the latter: there each individual cared only
for himself; and indeed only for his lower, merely animal,
wants ; and no one rose to the conception of any higher
enjoyment. Consequently it was only in the commingling
of the two original tribes of our Race, as the Actual
Human Race of History, that the development of the
State could begin and be carried out.

The first condition of a State, and the first essential
characteristic of our idea of it, as stated above, is this :
That Freemen must at first become subject to the will and
superintendence of other Freemen. Freemen, I say, in
opposition to Slaves : and by Freemen I mean those to
whose own skill and judgment it is left to provide the
means of subsistence for themselves and their families;
who are accordingly sovereign heads of families, and
even continue to be so after their submission to a
foreign will which has other purposes in view. A Slave,
on the contrary, is he to whom there is not left even
the care for his own subsistence, but who is maintained
by another, and in return becomes subject with his whole

166 LECTURE X.

powers to the arbitrary will of his master ; who therefore
cannot be the head of a family, but is a member of a
foreign family, and a bondsman for life; his master having
no other reason for maintaining him but that his main
tenance is more profitable than his destruction. Free
men, I said, as such, and on the supposition that thev still
remain free, must subject themselves to a foreign" will ;
and I said so for this reason : It belongs to the Idea
of a State, that the subjected may at least themselves
become a purpose ; and this can only occur when in their
subjection they still remain free within a certain sphere,
and this sphere of their liberty afterwards comes with
in the purpose of the State when the State advances
to higher Culture; but the Slave as such, and in the
case of his never attaining freedom, cannot himself be
come a purpose ; he is at best, like every other animal,
a mere instrument of his master s purpose; but by no
means a purpose himself. In this subjection of Freemen
to the oversight and rule of other Freemen, there are
then two, or, if we reckon otherwise, three cases possible:

and, as this subjection is the origin of the State,

there are just as many possible fundamental forms of the
State, through which it must pass towards its accomplish
ment ; and I entreat you to observe well, and even to com
mit to memory, these fundamental forms, as the foundation
upon which we intend to rest all our subsequent disquisi
tions upon this subject.

Namely, by this subjection the general mass of in
dividuals who have thereby come into combination,
considered as a completed Whole, are either All without
exception subjected to the Whole, that is, to the common
purpose of All, as it should be in the Perfect State ;
or they are not All subjected to the Whole. The latter case
where All are not subjected to the Whole, can only
be supposed possible in this way as the subjected at
least are All subjected, that the suljectors have not, on

TI1E ABSOLUTE FORM OF THE STATE. lo 7

their part, subjected themselves reciprocally to the others
and to the necessary purposes which are common to
the others and to themselves. The subjectors have con
sequently subjected the others to their own particular
purpose; which, as it cannot be, or at least cannot be
wholly, one of sensuous enjoyment for in that case
they would at once have reduced the subjected to slavery
and" destroyed their freedom altogether, must necessarily
be the purpose of ruling for the sake of ruling. This
would be our jirst case, as it is the first form which the
State assumes in Time : namely, the absolute inequality
of the members of the State, who are divided into the
classes of Rulers and Ruled, which can never exchange
their relative positions so long as this arrangement
endures. It is evident here, in passing, that such a State
cannot subdue its vassals with all their powers to its purpose,
as the State can certainly do when it has a better purpose
in view : for, in so doing, it would make them perfect
Slaves, and would thereby cease to deserve the name even
of a nascent State. Our other case was this : That all
the individual members of the State, without exception, are
subjected to the purpose of the Whole. This, again, is pos
sible in two ways: First, all the individual members may
be only negatively subjected to the Whole: that is, a
purpose may be secured to every one without exception,
in the prosecution of which no one else dares to hinder
him. Such a purpose, secured by the constitution against
interference on the part of any one else, is called a
Right: in such a constitution, therefore, every one has
a Right to which all other men without exception are
subjected. Equality of Right for all men as Right ; but
bv no means identical Rights ; for the purposes secured
to different individuals may be very different in extent,
and the existing state of such relations was generally taken
for the measure of Right when the dominion of Laws
It is evident that the State which occupies this

368 LECTURE X.

position, since it confers Rights upon some of its Citizens
which exceed the Rights of others who are nevertheless
able to keep their ground, is far from subjecting all the
powers of these favourites to its purpose : nay, since
by these Privileges of its favourites it hinders the others
in the free use of their powers, that it even wastes these
powers for the purposes of Individuals ; and therefore,
with all its Equality of Right, is far removed from the
Absolute form of the State. The case we have now
described would be the second fundamental form of the
State, and the second stage upon which our Race would
find itself in its progress towards the perfect form of the
State. Lastly, that all the individual members of the
State are subjected to the purpose of the Whole, may
also mean, that they are not merely subjected nega
tively thereto, but also positively ; so that absolutely no
Individual can propose any purpose to himself, and
devote himself to its furtherance, which is his own
merely and not at the same time the purpose of the
whole Community. It is obvious that in such a constitu
tion all the powers of all men are taken into account for
the common purpose, this common purpose being no other
than the purpose of all men without exception considered as
a Race; and that therefore this constitution manifests the
Absolute form of the State, and a true equality of Rights
and Powers begins. This equality does not by any means
exclude the distinction of Classes in society; that is, the dif
ferent modes in which human power may be applied, which
are left to the exclusive cultivation of Individuals, who again
leave the other modes of this application of power to the
exclusive cultivation of other men. But no Class, and no
exclusive application of power, must be permitted, which
is not dedicated to the purpose of the Whole, and which is
not absolutely necessary for the Whole ; the produce of
which is not actually partaken of by all other classes, and
by all the Individuals who compose these classes, according

THE ABSOLUTE FORM OF THE STATE. 169

to their ability to enjoy it. This would be the third stage
of the development of the State ; in which it would be
perfected, at least according to its Form.

It will be found, and perhaps it may be understood at
once by the more attentive and prepared auditor, that by
means of this perfection of its Form, the State for the first
time obtains possession of its true Material, that is, the
genuine purpose of the Human Race which has associated
itself within it; and that it has still to go through many
stages of its progress before its end shall be attained. We
speak here in the meantime only of the Form of the State.

I have undertaken these preliminary inquiries in order
that we maybe enabled to show what point of its develop
ment the State has attained in our own Age, in those
countries, of course, where it is farthest advanced. In the
meantime I may declare, that in my opinion the State,
still occupied with the completion of its Form, has now
firmly established itself on what we have described as
the second stage, and endeavours to attain the third ;
which latter it has even attained in part, and in part has
not yet attained. Hence, that in our own Age more than
at any previous time, every Citizen, with all his powers, is
subjected to the purpose of the State, is thoroughly pene
trated by it, and so has become its instrument; and that
the State endeavours to make this subjection universal and
complete : this constitutes, in our opinion, the funda
mental character of the Age in its Civil Relations.
What we precisely mean by this assertion, and that it
is actually the case, will be most easily shown by de
picting Times when it was not so ; and by setting forth
historically how, and by what course, it has gradually
become as it now is. We reserve this inquiry, as well as
some other investigations, which must precede it, for the
following lectures.

Let us, however, discuss one not unimportant point of
this Material to-day : that of Political Freedom. Even in

y

170 LECTURE X.

the first form of the State the Subject remained personally
free : he did not become a Slave. Had all been made Slaves,
then the nature of the whole institution would have been,
lost. In this condition, however, not even the personal
freedom of the Subject was guaranteed : he might be re
duced to slavery by one of the Rulers; he had therefore no
Civil Freedom, that is, as we have explained it above, he
had no Right secured to him by the constitution : he was in
fact not a Citizen but only a Subject; a Subject, however,
only to a certain extent, not being a Slave ; and beyond
the limits of his subjection he was free, not through Law,
but through Nature and Accident. In the second form of
the State, each Individual, without exception, received back
through the constitution a portion of freedom, not ex
actly of arbitrary power, but of independence, by which
he compelled all other men to respect a certain purpose or
Right which belonged peculiarly to him; and every one
had thus his own degree, not of mere personal liberty, but
of secured and therefore Civil Freedom ; while beyond
this he was a Subject; and if the Privileges of others, by
which he was restrained, were more extensive than his own,
he was more a Subject than a Citizen. In the Absolute
form of the State, where all the powers of all men are
called into activity for the necessary purpose of the whole
community, each Individual binds all others just in so far
a,s he is bound by them: all have equal Civil Rights or
Civil Freedom; and each Individual is thus at once a com
plete Citizen and a complete Subject; and, for the same
reason, all are Citizens and Subjects in like manner. If
we call that the Sovereign power which in reality gives
its purpose to the State, then, in this last-mentioned
form of the State, every Citizen will be a part of the
Sovereign power in the same manner and in the same
degree ; and if in this respect we bestow the title
Sovereign upon Individuals, then the principle just laid
down may also be expressed thus : Each Individual is

THE ABSOLUTE FORM OF THE STATE. 171

entirely a Sovereign in respect of liis necessary purpose
as a member of the Race, and entirely a Subject in respect
of the application of his individual powers : and all
are therefore both Sovereign and Subject in the same
manner.

Such is the case in reference to the State, when taken in
its strictest sense, as we have described it above, i.e. as
an Idea. It is a wholly different question, possessing no
thing in common with the former one, Who then shall
understand and measure this purpose of the State
given to it in reality, although not openly, by the Com
munity as a whole, and, by means of this estimate, guide
the power of the Citizens, and compel such as may oppose
themselves thereto ? in one word, Who shall govern ?
Since it is impossible that any higher estimate of the
purpose which has been given to the State by the Com
munity as a whole can find a place in the State itself,
all other powers and capacities in the State being sub
jected to this supreme estimate and guided thereby;
it follows that this estimate is associated with external
independence and freedom ; and indeed with Political
Freedom, if the Greek word from which this expression is
derived may be applied to the active and efficient admin
istration of a State. The former question would regard
the Constitution of the State, which is and ought to be
absolutely determined by Reason alone : the question now
raised is directed to the Form of Government.

It is evident, that with respect to the latter, only two
cases are possible : either all individuals without exception
take part by right, and in a perfectly equal degree, in this
estimate, and, by means of it, in the direction of all the
powers of the State; and then All are partakers of Political
Freedom, and are so in an equal degree: or this estimate,
arid the direction consequent upon it, is given over exclu
sively to a certain number of individuals : which latter
case, according to our previous investigations, amounts to

172 LECTURE X.

nothing more than this, that a particular Class in society
is established by Art, or is met with in Nature and History,
to which is committed, as its exclusive branch of the general
application of power, the estimate of the purpose of the
State, and the task of governing according to this estimate;
while the other Classes direct their powers to something
else ; and all of them, in their common character as the
governed, stand opposed to the Rulers. Here Political
Freedom is possessed only by the Rulers;, the governed are
altogether without it, and, in reference to the Government,
they are merely Subjects.

In the first place, the Constitution of the State, as it
should be according to Reason, is not necessarily altered
or abridged in any respect by such a form of Government
as we have now described. The governing Class remains
subject to the common purpose of the State, which is
determined by the general wants of the Community ; and
it must apply all its powers, without exception or reserve,
directly to the attainment of this purpose; just as the
other Classes have to dedicate their labour indirectly to
the attainment of the same purpose : hence, in regard to
this purpose, it is as much subjected as the others. This
Class itself, as a constituent element of the Race, is a part
of the purpose of the State ; and the attainment of its
wants, as an element of the Race, but not as a governing
Class, must likewise be secured ; and the Ruler is therefore
a Citizen, just as much as al] the others but in no higher
degree.

It is thus only the form of the State which is deter
mined, and its realization absolutely required, by Reason ;
but by no means the form of Government. If the purpose
of the State be understood, as clearly as is possible at the
time, and all existing power be directed towards the reali
zation of this highest conception, then is the Government
right and good, whether it be in the hands of All, or in
the hands of a few Individuals, or finally in those of a-

THE ABSOLUTE FORM OF THE STATE. 173

single Individual : it being understood, in this last case,
that this single Individual chooses his assistants according
to his own judgment, who remain subject and responsible
to him. Civil Freedom, and that to an equal degree, is
absolutely required for all men ; but Political Freedom is,
at most, only necessary for one. All the inquiries which
have ever been set on foot concerning the best Govern
ment, particularly in later times, have bad finally in view
to find a means of restraining the all-restraining power of
Government : first of all, in order that, as an absolutely
correct insight cannot be obtained by force, there may at
least be the best possible insight actually applied to the
Government ; and, in that case, that this best possible in
sight shall be actually realized. How useful soever this
inquiry may be in itself, and however possible the theo
retical solution of the problem, which indeed may actually
have been solved somewhere ; yet thousands of years may
pass over our Race before this solution can belong to a
philosophical characterization of any Present Age. It is
a fortunate and satisfactory thing for us, that in the actual
position of all cultivated States, and in the whole present
Stage of Culture, there are numerous urgent and con
straining reasons for every Government striving to attain
the clearest possible insight into the true purpose of the
State, and acting at all times with all its powers, accor
ding to the best insight which it has attained.

In the pursuance of our inquiries, we shall have oppor
tunities to refer to these reasons. Could such indications
on our part, and the whole range of inquiries which we
have begun to-day, contribute anything especially towards
making the particular Constitution under which we live
more intelligible, and thereby dearer and more valuable, to
us, then would one end be attained which belongs to the
purpose of these lectures.

(175)

LECTURE XI.

FARTHER DEFINITION OF THE IDEA OF THE STATE.

To determine at what stage of its development the State
has arrived in the Present Age, is the problem with which
we are now occupied, and to solve which we have under
taken the immediately preceding inquiries and investiga
tions. We had first of all to declare the mere Form of
the State ; that is, what is implied in the mere general
assertion of the existence of the State ; and this we have
done in our last lecture. Should this investigation have
appeared to some to be too speculative, so that, on this
account, it has either never been entirely clear to them,
or is not now any longer wholly present to their memory,
this can only arise, in my opinion, from this, that in
their attempt to comprehend the form of the State their
attention has been distributed over too large a number of
Individuals, wholly different from each other in respect of
their outward qualities ; while at the same time it is requi
site that this multitude of Individuals should be regarded
as an indivisible organic Whole. For the Understanding,
this business of comprehension is not rendered more diffi
cult by the multitude and variety of these elements ; but
the Imagination, and still more the common power of
observation which is accustomed to take cognizance only
of the peculiarities of Individuals and of Classes, is easily

176 LECTURE XI.

tired, unless it has bad a certain amount of practice be
forehand. Thus, in order to make our ideas perfectly
clear to those who perchance have not altogether under
stood our former lecture ; and to bring the whole once
more at one view before those to whom it may no longer
be thoroughly present in memory; let us to-day illustrate
our views by the example of a smaller Community, to
which, although not itself a State, we may give the form
of the State, that being all with which we are concerned
at present.

Let us suppose a union, perhaps by mutual agreement,
of several natural families into one, which would thence
forward be an artificial family. The purpose of such a
union could be nothing more than to acquire and preserve,
as far as possible, by their common labour, the means of
physical existence ; and hence this union would not consti
tute a State, the State not being an economical society,
and having a purpose very different from the mere physical
maintenance of individual life. But let us give to this
family-union the general form of the State. This is only
possible in the three following ways : Either all the mem
bers of the community are bound to apply their whole time
and ability to labour for the whole number of families
composing it, so that they cannot occupy themselves with
aught else ; while, on the other hand, all without ex
ception have an equal interest in the property and
enjoyments of the whole ; there being nothing whatever
belonging to the household which is not the property of
all, and which would not, were the occasion to arise, actu
ally be expended for any one. That each should apply
his whole ability for all the families, I said ; meaning
thereby, in so far as he possesses such ability. It is not
allowable that any one should say, I am stronger than
all the others ; I do more for the common good, and there
fore I must have something more than others in the divi
sion of enjoyments; for the union and combination of

FARTHER DEFINITION OF THE IDEA OF THE STATE. 177

all into one Society is altogether unconditional; that
this one is the strongest is quite accidental ; were ho the
weakest he would not be less cared for on that account;
and were he accidentally to become weak or sick, so that
he could no longer do anything for the common good, he
would still be cared for in the same way. Were our sup
posed family-union organized in this way, it would then
bear the Absolute form of the State, as it ought to be ac
cording to Reason, consisting in Equal Rights for All.

Or : the constitution of our supposed society might be
thus arranged : that perhaps, for we may leave this
point undetermined, that perhaps all, without exception,
are bound to apply all their powers for the purposes of
the community ; and also that there is no one to whom
the participation in some portion of what has been ac
quired by the common labour is not secured ; but that,
nevertheless, only a few are admitted to partake of what
ever is most precious and valuable in the produce of the
common power, while the others are excluded from this
enjoyment. In 1 this case it would follow, that those who
are thus excluded have laboured only in part for the whole
community, and in part not for the whole (to which never
theless they themselves belong), but only for the few
favoured individuals ; and hence that they have been, not
indeed wholly, but yet in this latter respect, only means
for the attainment of the purpose of these others. This
arrangement would represent the second possible form of
the State : Equality of Eight for all, but not Equal Eights.
Finally, we may conceive of this union of families in the
following way : that the greater number of its members
labour with all their powers to acquire a permanent and
fixed estate, while some neither put their own hand to the
work, nor direct the labour of others, nor trouble them
selves in any way whatever about the matter; but only
come from time to time, and snatch from the property
accumulated by the labour of the others, whatever is most

178 LECTURE XI.

accessible and pleasing to themselves; at most taking
care that the working part of the community be not
wholly ruined ; but even this only by their own arbitrary
choice, since no one can bind them to this foresight.
This condition of the society would bear the first form of
the State: the absolute subjugation of the many to the
selfish purposes of the few, and absolute extinction of
Rights among all. This would be a picture of the three
possible fundamental forms of the State which we have
already enumerated.

From this constitution of the State and the Personal
and Civil Freedom which are its necessary elements, we
carefully distinguished the form of Government and the
Political Freedom which belongs to it. That which we
have adduced on this latter subject may likewise be il
lustrated by our imaginary community. In the supposed
family-union, all the powers therein united ought to be
directed to the attainment of the common purpose. This
can be secured only by one single Will assuming the guid
ance of the whole application of power, determining at
all times what ought to be done immediately for the pur
pose of the community, and what may be deferred ; what
must be infallibly accomplished, and what may be relin
quished should sufficient time and ability be wanting for
its attainment ; a Will which appoints each one his place,
so that his exertions may not interrupt, but assist and co
operate with, the labours of others ; a Will, in fine, to
which each individual unconditionally submits his own
will in respect to the employment of his powers for the
purposes of the community. . Whence shall proceed this
one Will which is to guide all other wills ? Either all
the members of the community who have attained ma
ture age assemble together so often as a new resolution is
needed upon the common interests ; all, without exception,
express their opinion on the question proposed, so far as
they understand it ; and, after sufficient general delibera-

FARTHEK DEFINITION OF THE ID* A OF THE STATE. 179

tion, the majority of voices decides the point, to which
decision all must thenceforward be subject in their out
ward actions, whatever they may think in their own minds
of its justice. If the community be constituted in this
way, then each has by Eight an equal share in the direc
tion of the common purpose, which direction in the
State is called Government; and this freedom, which Avith
reference to the State we call Political Freedom, is thus
~by Right equally divided among all. By Right, I have
said, both in the former lecture with reference to the State,
and in this with reference to the supposed family-union ;
for should there be any one who is not possessed of any
opinions upon the common good, or who, if he do possess
such opinions, yet cannot express them ; then he would
actually possess little or no influence in the ultimate
determination of the community ; but he would not be
excluded from this influence by defect of Right, but only
by his own incapacity.

Or, in the second case, the community may have
made over to a committee composed of a few Individuals,
or even to one Individual, the superintendence and direc
tion of the whole ; and in this case they resign their
own right of direction and judgment in the administration
of Government, but only so far as outward action is
concerned, for in thought and speech they are still at
liberty to do what they will, and unconditionally subject
their own practically active will to the will of their autho
rised committee or individual manager. In this method
of prosecuting the common purpose, there is no place for
what the State calls Political Freedom, but only the condi
tion of subjection. Nevertheless, if all without exception
have an equal share in all the advantages of the com
munity, and if all the individual powers are directed by
the best possible insight towards the common good, and
not towards any private advantage, then the management
of the community is perfectly legitimate; and it has lost

180 LEGTUflK XL

nothing by making over the direction to a few or even to
one ; but, on the contrary, has gained thereby, since many
Individuals who could have contributed nothing available
for the common good in the assembly, are no longer com
pelled to sacrifice their time in attending there, but may
instead continue peaceably to practise that which they
understand.

All that has been now illustrated by means of our sup
posed community, we had already adduced in our former
lecture upon the form of the State, or upon the question,
What is implied in the mere existence of a State ? But
we added at that time, that the position of a particular
State, or of the State at a particular Epoch of Time, is
also to be determined by this inquiry, whether, and in
how far, the true purpose of all States, or whether, and
in how far, the Material of the State as distinguished from

O

its Form, has been attained therein ? We must further
discuss this Material of the State before we can begin the
historical inquiry, how the State has gradually attained
that point of its development upon which, in our opinion,
it now stands.

The purpose of the State is, as we have already shown
in our last lecture, no other than that of the Human Race
itself : to order all its relations according to the Laws of
Reason. It is only after the Age of Reason as Knowledge
shall have been traversed, and we shall have arrived at
the Age of Reason as Art, that the State can reflect upon
this purpose with clear consciousness. Till then it con
stantly promotes this purpose, but without its own know
ledge or free premeditated design ; prompted thereto by
the natural law of the development of our Race, even while
it has a totally different purpose in view; with which
purpose of its own Nature has indissolubly bound up
the purpose of the whole Race. This special and natural
purpose of the State in the earlier Epochs v/hich pre
cede the Epoch of Reason as Knowledge, is like that of

FARTHER DEFINITION OF THE IDEA OF THE STATE. 181

individual men, mere self-preservation ; and, as the State
exists only in the Race, the mere preservation of the
Race ; and, as the Race develops itself progressively, its
preservation in each particular stage of that development;
in both the two last-mentioned cases without the State
entertaining any clear conception of its purpose. In one
word, the purpose of the State, i.e. to maintain itself,
and the purpose of Nature, i.e. to place the Human Race
under such external conditions as may enable it to form
itself, by its own free activity, into an express image of
Reason, wholly coincide ; and while the attainment of the
former is pursued, the latter is at the same time being
accomplished.

Let us consider this matter in detail :

In the intermixture of original Culture and original Bar
barism, from which intermixture alone a Human Race
capable of development could arise, the first and immedi
ate purpose is the reclamation of the savage tribes. Again,
when we arrive at the first traces of a State, and Freemen
are permanently subjected to other Freemen according to a
definite rule, there Culture already exists; artificial Cul
ture namely produced by civilization, not the original Cul
ture of the Normal People of which we do not here speak ;
and we may therefore regard the State, particularly in
the most perfect form which it has assumed in any given
Age, as at the same time the seat of the highest Culture of
that Age. Barbarism stands directly opposed to the pur
poses of this Culture wherever it comes in contact with
them, and constantly threatens the existence of the State;
which thus finds itself, even by the necessity of its own
preservation, placed in natural war with the surrounding
Barbarism, and is compelled to use every effort for its
overthrow, which latter, indeed, can only be thoroughly
accomplished by bringing the Barbarians themselves under
the dominion of law and order, and, in so far, cultivating
them. Thus, while thinking only of itself, the State pro-

182 LECTURE XI.

motes indirectly the great purpose of the Human Race.
This natural war of all States against the surrounding Bar
barism is of great significance for History : it is this, al
most exclusively, which introduces a living and progressive
principle into History. We shall revert to this principle
at another time, and therefore I entreat you to note this.
Even after the general dominion of Culture has become so
powerful that it has nothing more to fear from outward
Barbarism, after it is perhaps divided from this Bar
barism by broad oceans, it will nevertheless, impelled by
an inward necessity, seek out those Barbarians who can no
longer approach it, in order to appropriate to itself those
products of their lands which they themselves do not em
ploy, or those lands themselves ; or it may be, to subdue
to itself the powers of those Barbarians; in part directly,
by means of slavery, and in part indirectly, by means of
unfair and overreaching commerce. However unjust these
purposes may appear in themselves, yet, by means of them,
the first characteristic of the World-Plan, i.e. the general
diffusion of Culture, is gradually promoted; and thus
will it continually proceed, until the whole Race which
inhabits our globe shall, according to the same plan, be
amalgamated into one great republic of Culture.

A second necessary purpose of the Human Race is, that
surrounding Nature, which exercises an influence upon its
existence as well as upon its actions, shall be wholly and
completely subdued to the jurisdiction of the Understand
ing. No power of Nature shall prejudice or disturb the
purposes of Culture, nor be able to destroy the results
of such purposes ; every manifestation of such power shall
be ascertainable beforehand, and there shall be known and
accessible means of preventing any consequent danger. It
shall be possible to compel every useful power of Nature to
shape itself to the uses and purposes of men. The powers
of Man, again, shall be multiplied by an appropriate distri
bution of the necessary branches of labour among many

FARTHER DEFINITION OF THE IDEA OF THE STATE. 183

members, each of whom shall acquire only one branch, but
acquire that one well; these powers shall be armed with
the knowledge of Nature and of Art, and with convenient
implements and machinery, and thus be raised superior to
every power of Nature; so that all the mere earthly pur
poses of man may be attained without superfluous ex
penditure of time or labour, and sufficient opportunity
be left remaining for him to turn his attention upon
inward and supersensual things. This is the purpose of
the Human Race as such.

In the State, the greater the proportion of the time and
power of its Citizens which it requires and must lay
claim to for the purpose of its own support, and the
more thoroughly it seeks to interpenetrate all its mem
bers and make them the instruments of this purpose,
the more must it endeavour to multiply and extend the
means of physical life, by promoting that dominion of
Man over Nature which we have already described, in
order that it may thereby secure the existence of its
Citizens; it must therefore accept all the before-men
tioned purposes of the Race, and assume them as its
own, for the sake "of~its own purpose. It will conse
quently, to adopt the common enumeration of these
purposes, strive to quicken Industry ; to improve Agri
culture ; to carry to their highest perfection Manufactures,
Commerce, and Machinery; and to encourage discoveries
in the Mechanical Arts and in Natural Science. Let it
be believed that it does all this only with the view of
adding to its revenue, and of being enabled to maintain
a larger army ; let even the Rulers themselves, at least
for the most part, be unconscious of any higher design;
it nevertheless promotes, though without its own know
ledge, the purpose which we have indicated as that of the
Human Race as such.

The outward purpose of this dominion of the Race over
Nature is, as we have said in one of our first lectures, a

184 LECTURE XT.

double purpose : Either that Nature may be subjected
merely to the purpose of rendering our sensuous existence
more easy and agreeable, whence arise the Mechanical
Arts ; or that it may be subjected to the higher spiritual
wants of man, and have stamped upon it the majestic
image of the Idea, whence arises Fine Art. A State
which has yet much to fear for its external existence,
and requires to make great efforts in order to place
even that in safety, will indeed, so soon as it attains
the first glimpse of its true interest, study to promote
in every possible way the Mechanical Arts, in the ex
tended sense which we have given to them above ; but
since it does this merely with the view of having at
command a larger surplus of the national power winch
it may then employ for the maintenance of its own
security, it will apply this surplus of power only to that
purpose, and will have little remaining for the syste
matic and general promotion of Fine Art, or of still
higher purposes of Humanity. It is only after the
State, even for the sake of its own self-preservation,
has subjected Nature to the mechanical uses of its
Citizens, and made these Citizens themselves, and all of
them equally, its instruments in the highest possible
degree; after the whole empire of Culture has entered
into such relations with that of Barbarism, and the
particular States into which the former may be divided
have entered into such relations with each other, that
no one need any longer be anxious about his external
security ; it is only after this has taken place, that the
question arises, To what should the surplus of national
power, rendered superfluous by the mechanical elabora
tion of Nature, which surplus of power has hitherto
been devoted to the security of the State, and stands
entirely under the authority of the State, as all the
Citizens do ; to what shall this surplus of power be
applied ? and there can be no other answer given to

FARTHER DEFINITION OF THE IDEA OF THE STATE. 185

this question than that it should be devoted to Fine
Art. During War, Art can scarcely exist, far less ad
vance with sure step and according to a settled plan ;
the time of War, however, is not limited to the period
when War is actually carried on ; hut the general in
security of all men with respect to each other, and the
constant state of preparation for War resulting from
this, is itself War ; and has almost the same consequences
for the Human Race as active War. Only real, that is
permanent, Peace, can be the parent of Art as we under
stand that word.

I said that only after the State has attained to perfect
external security, the question arises, to what the surplus
of national power, now no longer necessary for the pur
poses to which it was previously directed, should be
applied. This question is also one which is obviously
forced upon the State by the purposes of self-preserva
tion ; since, from such a considerable mass of power,
undirected and uncomputed, and which nevertheless
cannot by possibility remain wholly quiescent, nothing
is to be expected but disturbances and hindrances to
the State in the prosecution of its prescribed plans, and
therefore the breaking up of its internal peace ; and
thus it is obvious that, in all those respects to which
we have adverted, the State stands under a higher
guidance, concealed it may be from itself; and that
while, in its own belief, it is merely pursuing its special
purpose of self-preservation, it is nevertheless, at the
same time, promoting the higher purpose of the develop
ment of the Human Race.

For the rest : It is only for the sake of completeness
that we have introduced this latter point ; namely, how
and under what external conditions the State is compelled,
even in providing for its own preservation, to adopt the
general and universally accessible form of Fine Art, as its
own purpose : not by any means as indicating that this

a a

186 LECTURE XI.

consideration belongs to the characteristics of the Present,
or of any preceding Age. Should this latter assertion
surprise any one who thinks of the loud talk about Art,
and the promotion of Art, current in the present day
even among our great men, we would entreat such an
one to consider that this talk cannot have escaped us ;
that as little can it have escaped us that twice, first,
by a peculiar concourse of circumstances, among which
one at least can never re-appear, and a second time,
from the Christian Church, there has burst forth a
morning-dawn of Art, the beams of which continue to
illumine our present day though with a reflected splen
dour; but that nevertheless the expression Fine Art,
and particularly a Fine Art pervading the whole nation
and every branch of its activity, has with us a signi
fication quite different from the common one; of which
meaning we have here neither time nor opportunity to
give such a full account as is requisite for its proper
comprehension.

Thus far, and no farther, extends the legitimate pro
motion of the purposes of Reason by means of the State
while the latter appears to be occupied solely with the pursuit
of its own purpose. The higher branches of the Culture of
Reason, Religion, Science, Virtue, can never become
purposes of the State. Not Religion : We do not here
speak of the superstitious fear of God as a Being hostile
to man, which ancient nations conjured up from their
own thoughts in order that they might propitiate this
dreadful Being in name of the nation and so establish
National Religions : with this we have nothing to do
at present. The True Religion is as old as creation,
and therefore older than any State. It was one of the
arrangements of that Providence which watches over
the development of our Race that this True Religion
should, at the proper time, reappear from out the ob
scurity in which it had previously lain concealed, and

FARTHER DEFINITION OF THE IDEA OF THE STATE. 187

spread itself over the realm of Culture ; asserting even
beforehand the claim that the State should have no power
over it, and exacting from the Rulers, as the condition of
their reception into the bosom of this Religion, the acknow
ledgment of their submission to God and the equality of
all men in his sight ; and devolving its preservation and ex
tension upon a society in so far wholly independent of the
State, i.e. the Church. So it must necessarily remain,
for the Rulers can never shut themselves up from the
need of Religion ; and so will it remain to the end of
Time. As little can Science ever become a purpose of the
State. From this remark there is to be excluded, as an
exception to the general rule, whatever Individuals, Rulers,
or partakers in the Government may do on account of
their own connexion with Science or Art, or their in
terest therein. But with respect to the regular and ordi
nary course of things, the more the State approaches
the perfection of its Form, the more it makes its Citizens
entirely the instruments of its purpose, so much the
more must it be estranged from Science, strictly so
called, which is elevated far above common life and
has no direct influence thereon, and must even come
to regard it as a useless expenditure of time and power,
which might be more profitably devoted to the imme
diate service of the State ; and thus the phrase mere
Speculation will become more and more a sure term of
reprobation. It might indeed easily be proved that no
one can be a thoroughly useful servant of the State, capable
at all times of passing from established custom to new
truth, who has not first been trained in the school of
severe Science. But the insight into this truth pre
supposes either the possession of Science itself; or, should
this be awanting, a self-denial which cannot reasonably
be exacted. In this position of matters Science may
consider itself fortunate enough if it be tolerated by the
State ; either through inconsequence, or from the hope

188 LECTURE XI.

that the barren Speculation may, at one time or other,
lead to some useful discovery ; or from receiving the
protection of the Church ; or even that of Medicine,
since every man would willingly live as long and enjoy
as good health as possible.

Finally, Virtue can be no object of the State. Virtue is
the constant and all-directing Good-will which strives to
promote with all its power the purposes of the Human
Race; and in the State particularly to promote these pur
poses in the way prescribed by it; the desire and love to
do this, and an unconquerable aversion to any other course
of action. But the State, in its essential character of a
compulsive power, calculates upon the absence of Good- will,
and therefore upon the absence of Virtue, and upon the
presence of Evil- will; it supplies the want of the former,
and represses the out-break of the latter, by fear of
punishment. Strictly confining itself to this sphere, it
has no need to calculate upon Virtue, nor to take it into
account for the accomplishment of its purposes. Were all
its members virtuous it would lose its character of a
compulsive power altogether, and become the mere Leader,
Guide, and true Counsellor of the willing.

Nevertheless the State, by its mere existence, conduces to
the possibility of a general development of Virtue through
out the Human Race, although, strictly considered, it
does not expressly make this its purpose except as con
cealed under another form, by the production of external
good manners and morality, which indeed are yet far off
from Virtue. Under a Legislation which should strictly and
systematically embrace every possible crime against the out
ward Rights of the Citizens, and under an Administration
from which actual crime could seldom or never conceal itself
or escape the punishment threatened by the Law, every
thought of crime, as something wholly vain and leading to
nothing but certain punishment, would at once be stifled in
its birth. When the Nation had lived in peace and quietness

FARTHER DEFINITION OF THE IDEA OF THE STATE. 189

for a series of Ages under this constitution, and new gene
rations had been born and had grown to manhood beneath
its sway, and from them again younger races had arisen ;
then the habit even of inward temptation to injustice would
gradually disappear altogether; and men would live with
each other peacefully and justly, without the outward ap
pearance of the least Evil-will, exactly as if all were vir
tuous of heart ; while it might still perhaps be only Law
which restrained them, although now with a silent and
gentle authority ; and in moments when its dominion
should be cast off we might witness very different scenes.

Let us not be afraid like certain reasoners, who also
assume the name of Philosophers, and who recognise in
Virtue nothing but a mere negation, and can only conceive
of it as the opposite of crime, let us not be afraid that
in such a state of society Virtue should be no longer
possible. If these reasoners speak of outward actions
in society which shall even surpass the Law of the
State, and which may perhaps spring from inward Vir
tue, perhaps from other motives; then are they quite
right; for, in the Perfect State the virtuous man finds
everything relating to society which he himself loves
arid desires to do already outwardly commanded ; and
everything which he detests and would never consent
to do already outwardly forbidden : in this State it is
impossible to go beyond what is commanded, and thus
it can never be determined, from the outward action
itself, whether a man has done right from Love of
Goodness or from Fear of Punishment, with his own
free consent or against his will. But Virtue does not
need this outward recognition ; it rests in its own Love of
Goodness without reference to what is commanded, and in
its own aversion to Evil without reference to what is for
bidden ; it is sufficient for itself, and is supremely blessed
in its own consciousness of rectitude.

And so it must be at once admitted, that, through the

190 LECTURE XI.

perfection of all the relations of the Human Race, and in
particular through the perfection of that relation which
includes within itself all the others, i.e. the State, all
voluntary Sacrifice, all Heroism, all Self-denial, in short,
all that we are wont to admire in man, becomes super-
fluous; and only the Love of Goodness, as the one im
perishable Virtue, remains. To this Love man can only
raise himself with Freedom ; or rather its flame will
kindle spontaneously in every soul which has first eradi
cated from itself the Desire of Evil. The State can, at
furthest, facilitate the development of this Love, inas
much as it scares back the nascent desire of Evil into
the secret depths of the breast, accords it no point of
vantage, but counts it as mere idle hindrance. He in
whose soul this flame of Heavenly Love is kindled, how
ever constrained he may seem to mere outward appear
ance, yet in inward Freedom and independence rises even
superior to the State ; the State does not give a Law
to his will, but its Law accidentally accords with his will
because it is a perfect Law. This Love, as it is the only
imperishable Virtue, and the only Blessedness, so is it also
the only True Freedom ; and only through it can man
rise superior to the bondage of the State, as well as to
all other bondage which oppresses and confines him
here below. Happy is it for Mankind that they have
not to wait for the slowly advancing perfection of the
State in order to attain this Love ; but that in all Ages,
and under all circumstances, every Individual of our Race
may freely raise himself to its possession !

(191 )

LECTURE XII.

HISTORICAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE STATE.

As a preparative to the solution of the problem with which
we are more immediately occupied, What point of its
development has the State attained in our own Age ?
we have shown, in our last two lectures, though only in
the abstract and by speculative reasoning, what the
State, both in its Form and its Material, really is; and
through what stages and elements of progress it grad
ually advances towards its perfection. This delineation,
which must have been somewhat tedious in itself,
acquired an interest from the purpose we had in view ;
this, namely, to render what is to follow thoroughly
intelligible to you. We have now to give life to this
general picture, by summoning to your recollection the
actual events of History ; with the view of enabling you
to discover for yourselves what is new, original, and peculiar
in the constitution and government of existing States ; and
thus, wherein the political character of our Age, as distin
guished from all other Ages, consists. We have already suf
ficiently explained the nature of our view and treatment of
History in a special lecture; out of which lecture we find it
necessary here to remind you of only one thing, namely,
that our remarks upon History do not lay claim to the
character of historical principles themselves, but are

192 LECTURE XII.

merely designed to open up questions and problems for
proper historical investigation. And we add, as a new
and farther limitation, that we shall confine ourselves
to the simple and obvious traces of civilization which
have come down to us ; employing only our own His
tory, that of civilized Europe, as the existing domain
of Culture ; passing by other adjoining civilizations,
which may indeed have had a common origin with our
own, but which cannot now be referred back to such
an origin and have no direct influence upon ourselves;
for example, the civilizations of China and of India.

We have already set forth as the beginning of all social
combination, the occurrence of this fact ; namely, that
Freemen became subject, to a certain extent and in a certain
respect, to the will of other Freemen. How and in what
way has this subjugation been brought about? this is
the first question which here forces itself upon our
notice. This question is intimately connected with that
respecting the origin of inequality among men, which
has become so famous in our own day, and which we
shall by no means solve in the way in which it has
been solved by a writer who has gained great celebrity
on this account.*

According to our system, which we have already set
forth, and which may be fully proved in the strict domain
of Philosophy, we find an original inequality among
men, and indeed the greatest possible inequality; namely,
between the Normal People existing as a pure mani
festation of Reason on the one hand; and the wild
and savage Races of Barbarism on the other. In what
way these primitive ingredients of our Human Race
were first mingled together, no History can inform us ;
for the very existence of a History presupposes such an
intermixture as having already taken place. In this

Rousseau.

HISTORICAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE STATE. 193

condition of intermixture, even the descendant of the
Normal People the partaker of their primitive Cul
turefirst became aware of the demand upon him for an
entirely new Cultivation, not necessarily included in that
primitive Culture ; namely, the cultivation of the power
of imparting his Culture to others, and thus creating for
himself an extensive field of influence and activity. It
does not follow that all such descendants of the Normal
People made equal progress in this new art, or were
even capable of so doing ; but each individual would
develop this art in himself as his own character might
permit : as little does it follow that those who remained
behind in this progress, and could not so easily lay
aside their innocence and simplicity, were on that account
worse than those who found it easy to enter into the
crooked byways of corrupt and depraved Races, or to
employ force against them ; but it does follow that the
latter, and not the former, would be the Counsellors,
Leaders, and Governors, and that with the free consent
and good-will of the former, who in such a state of things
would not grudge them this privilege, but would willingly
retire into silence and obscurity.

An outward circumstance should be mentioned here,
which, in our opinion, is of the greatest importance in
History the possession of metals, and the art of their most
suitable application: of metals, I say, and I beg that you
will not suppose that I mean gold alone. How the know
ledge of these metals first arose, and how they were first
brought forth from the bowels of the earth and changed
into the new arid unexpected forms imposed upon them by
art; with this inquiry, in our opinion, no History need
trouble itself; such knowledge undoubtedly existed anterior
to all History, arid from the very beginning of the world,
as a possession of the Normal People; which possession,
after the intermixture with Barbarism, the skilful knew
how to employ wholly otherwise than the simple. The

la

194 LECTURE XII.

value which these metals would acquire by their dura
bility, by their usefulness in strengthening the feeble
powers of man, and by the difficulty of discovering them ;
and in particular, the dreadful importance which they
would acquire in the hands of those who first converted
them into destructive weapons, is sufficiently apparent in
itself. Indeed these metals are found to be, from the very
commencement of History, the most universally coveted
commodities ; they are even to the present day the most
highly prized things which the civilized man can bring
to the savage ; and the perfecting of arms, and the
fabrication of newer and more efficient instruments of
murder out of these metals, is an actual phase of de
velopment in our whole History !

By means of these two principles, there could now ensue
the subjugation, under one or more leaders, of the inhabi
tants of those countries throughout which the Normal
People were in the first instance dispersed, unmixed with
the Barbarians at the outset although surrounded by them.
Whether they were at first united for the purposes of
active warfare only against the wild animals, or against
the Savages not as yet subjected to the purposes of
Culture ; still this union could occur only on the supposi
tion of the need of such a warfare. The Ruler would not
be under the necessity of expending any peculiar care on
the maintenance or preservation of his subjects, who being
themselves descended from the cultivated race could pro
vide for their own support had they only external peace :
as little would he be called upon to make large demands
upon their energies and labour, since their union had only
a temporary and easily attainable purpose in view. Soon,
however, this simple relation became more complex. The
power of governing others, possessed by the Ruler, of
legislating for them, particularly of legislating for them
through the agency of others, became an object of ambi
tion, and in proportion as the capacities of those who

HISTORICAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE STATE. 195

were at first willing and obedient subjects were developed,
they must have begun to regard with envious eyes the
power of government exercised over them by other men.
Thus communities united by common descent, and in
habiting a common country, separated themselves from
the general mass, and, when fortune favoured them, some
times even attained a dominion over the whole.

In this manner had the State, in our opinion, its begin
ning in Central Asia, as the cradle of the historical exis
tence of the Human Race. He who first subjected the
will of other Freemen to his own in this quarter of the
World, may indeed have been, according to a well-known
tradition, a mighty hunter ; but the troops of men once
assembled, were afterwards employed for other purposes
than the chase. At a later time, Assyrians, Medes, Per
sians, and other nations whose names are unknown to us,
made their appearance upon this stage, and one after
another assumed the sovereignty over their former Rulers,
as well as over their former companions in servitude. It
is only of these governing nations and of their chief leaders
that History makes mention : of the subdued, and those
who never attained to sovereignty, of their knowledge,
their domestic relations, their manners, their Culture,
she is silent ; their existence passed away in obscurity,
unnoticed by Political History. That these nations, how
ever, may have been essentially not worse, but probably
far superior to their conquerors, is proved, by the history
of civilization among the Jews who for the first time
during their dispersion among these people were emanci
pated from their former rude superstition and elevated to
better conceptions of God and of the Spiritual World ;
by that of the Greeks who acknowledge that they have re
ceived the sublimest elements of their philosophy from
these countries; and finally, bv the history of Christianity
which, according to a previous remark, ascribes to itself
not a Jewish but an Asiatic origin. The greatest share

196 LECTURE XII.

in the public undertakings, as well as the honour arising
from them, fell to the lot of the governing people ; the
members of the subdued nations being generally excluded
from all participation in the government ; but the ruling
power was still far from being even thoroughly acquaint
ed with all the powers of the governed, and still farther
from being able to lay claim to their services without
limitation or forbearance. That the so-called great King
of the Persians, the ruler of this immense territory and of
these countless nations, was yet almost wholly unaided by
them is evident from the long series of years which were
requisite to complete the armament against Greece; and
still more from the disgraceful result of that expedition.

This condition of things was, in our opinion, the first
form of the State: The subjugation of free nations for
certain purposes of a governing nation ; not as yet a com
plete subjugation proceeding upon any regular and fixed
rule ; but only as suggested by the pressure of necessity,
the facility of enforcing it, or the accidental presence of
a satrap or a pacha; in other respects combined with
perfect freedom or at all events with anarchy in their
other relations on the part of the governed people : or
in one word, DESPOTISM; the essential nature of which
does not consist in mere barbarity of conduct, but only in
the existence of a governing race, and of subdued nations
excluded from participation in the government and, with
reference to the means of their subsistence, left wholly to
themselves; whose participation in the burdens of this
relation is determined only by caprice and not by rule, as
is also the case with the direction of civil policy and
legislation ; there being consequently no established law
whatsoever: Despotism, as this relation still exists in
Europe, under the eye of the observer, in the Turkish
Empire which, amid the general progress of surrounding
nations, remains to this moment in the very earliest Epoch
of the development of the State.

HISTORICAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE STATE. 197

In Europe, originally the seat of Barbarism, the State
had its commencement in efforts for the accomplishment
of another object. Here it was not whole masses of the
descendants of the Normal People who became intermixed
with the savage Races, but only a few individuals banished
from the realm of Culture already existing in Asia, per
haps with few followers and without hope of return ;
among whom I shall call to mind only Cecrops, Cadmus,
Pelops, many other names being now lost to History.
Well skilled in all the Arts and Sciences of the ancient
oriental world, provided with un wrought metals, with arms
and implements of husbandry, perhaps with useful seeds,
plants, and domestic animals, they landed first on the
coasts which at a later period bore the name of Greece,
amid imbecile Savages who with difficulty maintained
their existence, who perhaps had not yet abandoned can
nibalism, and who, according to historical narrative, had
certainly not yet abandoned human sacrifices ; in exactly
the same way as an English Colony at the present day
might, with better intentions, make a permanent settle
ment in New Zealand. By gifts ; by the communication
of many advantages, and instruments whereby the means
of subsistence might be more easily acquired ; by the
storing up of food for all from one harvest to another ;
these colonists attracted the Savages and gathered them
around themselves ; by their means erected towns, and in
these held them together ; introduced more humane man
ners, and established customs which gradually assumed the
character of laws ; and thus imperceptibly became their
rulers. As these strangers came accompanied only by
their own families, or at all events by few attendants, they
could neither superintend nor unite around them large
masses. Moreover there came, from time to time, other
emigrants like themselves, who in the same manner foun
ded states in other localities ; and thus it happened thafc
in this, the first cultivated region of Europe, there arose,

198 LECTURE XII.

not a great and widely extended empire as in Asia, hut a
number of small neighbouring states. It was impossible
for them to avoid engaging in war with those Savages who
made inroads upon their borders and disturbed their
undertakings ; those who could not be expelled would
be forced into servitude, and thus Slavery in this region
may have arisen.

The free subjects of these new States were, even from
the commencement, treated with kindness, and afterwards
carefully instructed and trained; not, as in Asia, under the
government of a dominant race, but for the most part
under that of a single foreign famity, whose lives were
at all times open to the inspection of their subjects :
these subjects would doubtless not be blindly satisfied with
all the demands and arrangements of their Rulers, but
would examine for themselves how these tended to the
general welfare ; and therefore the Ruler would be under
the necessity of maintaining towards them a circumspect
and upright course of conduct. And out of these circum
stances there arose, for the first time, that keen sense
of Right, which in our opinion is the true characteristic
of the European nations, in contrast with the religious
submissiveness to authority which is peculiar to the
Asiatics.

These governing families at length lost their authority
over the remoter public undertakings, or they died out, or
were banished ; and thus, since the ideas of Right were
already pretty generally diffused, Republics naturally arose
in place of the previous petty Monarchies. We have
nothing here to do with the form of Government, or the
Political Freedom of these States. In the popular poli
tical belief of the Greeks, the essential was confounded
with the accidental, and the end with the means;
King and Tyrant were synonymous words, and the me
mory of their ancient ruling families was only regarded
with terror : a confusion which has even come down to

HISTORICAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE STATE. 199

us, their latest political descendants, and against which
we have here guarded ourselves by the preceding
distinctions. This, I say, does not concern us at present:
what the Greeks sought, and what they obtained,
was Equality of Right for all Citizens. In a certain
sense, we might even say Equality of Rights, for there
was no race favoured by the constitution more than
another; but there existed a great inequality of power,
which indeed arose only by accident and not by the con
stitution of the State, but which nevertheless the State
could not remedy; and in so far there did not exist
Equality of Rights.

In this way, that which we have set forth as the second
stage in the development of the State, Equality of
Right for all, has arisen in Europe ; not by a previous
passage through the first stage, that of Despotism, but
only because the State began its existence in Greece
under other conditions than those amid which it first
appeared in Central Asia.

In a still wider circle and under the most interesting
circumstances, was this condition of Equality of Right
developed in the second country of Europe which be
came civilized, namely, in Italy. Here, in our opinion,
the first founders of civilization were not individual
families, as in the early history of Greece, but actual
Colonies; that is, assemblages of many families from
Ancient Greece. Where these Colonies remained by
themselves, as occurred in Southern Italy, forming ex
clusive States out of elements furnished by their own
people, they were but a mere continuation of Grecian
existence, and had nothing new about them ; and on
that account have no place in our inquiry. But where
these Colonies mingled with the savage native tribes and
joined with them in the formation of States, as occurred in
Central Italy, wholly new phenomena necessarily ensued.
By exactly the same means which were employed by the

200 LECTURE XII.

individual emigrants in Greece, and which enabled them
gradually to assume the government in that country, did
the whole race of the Colonists here acquire authority and
power among the Savages with whom they associated
themselves ; and whatever political arrangements these
Colonists might have introduced among themselves, there
arose nevertheless, so far as the natives were concerned,
an Aristocratic Government. The ancient manners and
even the original language of the country were changed
by the new coiners. The Colonists became the ruling
Tribe just as we found ruling Nations in Central Asia.
Here also, as in Asia, an extensive empire might have
arisen, had not new Colonies arrived while yet the first
Colonists had scarcely been able to cultivate sufficiently
for their purposes the natives who had been already
subdued, and these new Colonies again subjugated other
sections of the original inhabitants. So long as the
Aristocracy were not forced to dwell too closely under the
eye of their subjects ; so long as they were not urged by
necessity to lay upon the latter burdens which were beyond
their strength, and these latter were not compelled by the
same necessity to resist them, matters might remain in
this position. As soon as these conditions were at an
end, a strife between the two parties was inevitable.
In one of the States composed of these two ingredients
in the population of Central Italy in Rome, namely
the conditions under which alone this state of things
was tolerable first disappeared. "We here lay aside the
consideration that at first Rome was governed by Kings:
these Kings always belonged to the Aristocratic races
who were scattered over the whole of Central Italy;
they were in fact the heads of the Aristocracy, and fell
as soon as they attempted aught against it. Thus
much however is clear, that in Rome there were from
the first two leading classes of Citizens : the Patricians,
or descendants of the Aristocratic colonist-races, and the

HISTORICAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE STATE. 201

Plebeians, or descendants of the aboriginal inhabitants of
Italy. These two most dissimilar ingredients we see
crowded together within the narrow limits of a city,
constantly exposed to the observation of each other, and
shut up from the possibility of extension on any side
by the universal and well-deserved hatred of the neigh
bouring States ; in this emergency, the Aristocracy
firmly combining amongst themselves, and desirous of
living at the expense of the People whom they treated
like slaves ; this People, on the other hand, rising
against them, but yet, with the true European national
sense of Right, not desiring the subjugation of the
oppressors, but only Equal Rights and Equal Laws; the
Aristocracy, again, in need of the strength of these People
for the defence of the State against outward enemies, and
hence conceding, under the pressure of necessity, what,
when the necessity was past, they would willingly have
recalled : and thus arising a struggle of several centuries
duration between these two parties ; which began with
the Aristocracy declaring all affinity with the families
of the People to be a degrading contamination, and
refusing to the People, by denial of the privileges
of the Auspices, all portion in the sympathy of the
Gods; and ended by this same Aristocracy sharing
the posesssion of the highest dignites of the State with
men from the ranks of the People, and being com
pelled to admit that these offices were as beneficially and
ably filled by the latter as by themselves. Nevertheless
the Aristocracy could not for many centuries forget
their former Privileges, and neglected no opportunity of
again overreaching the People ; who, on the other hand,
scarcely ever failed to find the means of protection :
and this endured until all power fell into the hands of
a single individual, and both combatants were at once
and in like manner subdued. In this contest, prolonged
for many centuries, between the effort for Equal Rights

c a

202 LECTURE xir.

maintained with the greatest ability, and the claims of
Privilege sustained with no less ability, there arose a
proficiency in civil legislation and in the internal and
external administration of the State, and an almost per
fect comprehension of all the possible expedients by which
the laws might be evaded, such as were possessed by no
nation before the Romans ; so that we ourselves have still
much to learn from them in this department.

Here, too, we have Equality of Right secured in the
most skilful manner; bat as yet no Equal Rights; partly
on account of the restless struggles of the Aristocracy, and
partly on account of accidental circumstances, which the
constitution was unable to remove.

We remarked in a former lecture that the State regards
itself as the exclusive realm of Culture, and in this
character stands in natural warfare with Barbarism.
So long as Humanity received but a one-sided Culture
in different States, it was to be expected that each
particular State should deem its own Culture the true
and only civilization, and regard that of other States as
mere Barbarism, and their inhabitants as Savages ;
and thus feel itself called upon to subdue them. In
this way a war might easily arise between the three
great States of the ancient world which we have men
tioned ; and indeed a real and typical war, a war of
subjugation. In the first place, with respect to the Grecian
States; they at an early period constituted themselves
as Greeks, that is, as a nation united together by
definite views of Civic and Political Rights, by a common
language, feasts and oracles, and by means of a national
confederacy and national Rights universally recognised
among themselves, constituted themselves as Greeks, I
say, into a peculiar realm of Culture from which they
excluded all other nations under the name of Barbarians.
If, notwithstanding this confederacy, they allowed them
selves to engage in war with each other, still these wars

HISTORICAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE STATE. 203

were conducted in a manner different from those against
the Barbarians ; they were prosecuted with moderation
and forbearance, and never to the extinction of either
State. If, at a later period, the two Republics who
occupied the first rank in Greece were divided even in
their policy towards foreign nations, and made war on
each other on that account; still the Greeks were again
united in one purpose by the Macedonian Hero, so as to
play out their own peculiar part in the drama of World-
History. Their Culture was wholly for the State and its
purposes, Legislation, Government, War by land and
seaj anc l i n this they unquestionably far excelled their
natural opponents in Asia. Among the latter, however,
the true Religion lay concealed, unknown perhaps to the
ruling nation themselves; and to this the Greeks were
never able to attain. What it was in particular which
entitled the predominant nation of the East, the Per
sians, to arrogate for themselves a superiority over the
Greeks at the time when this antagonism broke forth
into open rupture, is not quite clear ; but it is certain
that they did regard the latter as Barbarians, i.e. as a
people far inferior to themselves in the arts of political
existence and the science of their application; and in
deed it would not otherwise have occurred to them to
attempt the subjugation of Greece.

Invasion followed on the part of the Greeks, and the
Asiatic dominion was destroyed ; a conquest which must
have been easily accomplished by the first nation of actual
Citizens, over an empire wherein there was properly but
one race possessed of true freedom and enjoying real citi
zenship; while the rest were mere subjects, to whom, after
the fall of their leaders who fought only for their own
dominion, it might be a matter of indifference into whose
hands the supreme authority fell, which they in their own
person were wholly unaccustomed to exercise.

In the meantime the acquired supremacy of the Greeks

204 LECTURE XII.

in Asia did not produce those farther revolutionary conse
quences which might have been anticipated ; the spirit
of the conquerors, which alone might have been capable
of holding together this immense empire and of mould
ing it according to the Grecian Ideal, forsook its ancient
abode, and the victorious generals divided the conquered
countries as a spoil among themselves. As each had an
equal right, or want of right, to the whole, there arose
endless wars between these new kingdoms, with alternate
expulsions and restorations of the reigning families, leav
ing little time for the cultivation of the arts of peace,
and producing universal enervation. The old common
Fatherland was, at the same time, depopulated by the
emigration of its young and warlike manhood to the
military service of these Kings, and thus rendered
powerless for its own undertakings ; so that after all,
the commencement of the supremacy of the Greeks was
also the beginning of their fall. Scarcely a single signi
ficant result of this event has found a place in World-
History, excepting this: that thereby the Greek Language
was spread over all Asia ; a circumstance which greatly
helped the subsequent diffusion of Christianity through
out Asia, and from thence into other lands; further,
that in consequence of this squandering of strength and
energy in internal wars, the conquest and peaceful occu
pation of all these countries was made an easy matter for
the Romans.

It was these Romans who united in one State the
Culture which had now been produced by the inter
mixture of different races, and who thereby completed
the period of Ancient Time and closed the simple course
of Ancient Civilization. With respect to its influence
on Universal History, this nation, more than any other,
was the blind and unconscious instrument for the
furtherance of a higher World-Plan, since it had formed
itself, as indicated above, into a most fit and proper

HISTORICAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE STATE. 205

instrument for that purpose. These Romans had no
thought of diffusing Culture by means of the subjugation
of other nations : mindful of their own obscure begin
ning, they were scarcely conscious of their real superiority
in the art of government, which indeed was of slow and
gradual development; nay, with simple and true-hearted
candour they styled themselves Barbarians, and were
ever ready to adopt, so far as their own circumstances
admitted, the arts and manners of foreign nations with
whom they became acquainted. At first the pressure
of the neighbouring Italian States and nations, and then
the fear of the advancing power of the Carthaginians,
had made them able warriors ; while by their internal
quarrels they had acquired in great perfection, even at an
earlier period, that policy which enabled them to direct
and order their military power. After victory had freed
them from uneasiness on account of foreign enemies,
their own leaders began to seek war for its own sake.
In order that they might be enabled to distinguish
themselves, and rise above the crowd ; to replenish their
treasuries exhausted by feasts given to the toiling people;
to withdraw the attention of the Citizens from the
constant internal machinations of the Aristocracy, by
directing it towards foreign affairs, triumphal processions,
and captive monarchs, war soon came to be prosecuted
without intermission and as a matter of necessity; for
only by external war could internal peace be secured.
After the conquest of the realms of Ancient Culture by
the Romans, new conquests among the Barbarians being
far more difficult to accomplish,- there remained no
other means of preservation for the State than the sub
jugation of both the contending parties to the dominion
of a single power. It could be no difficult task for the
Romans to subdue the enfeebled nations of the former
Macedonian monarchy who were united by no permanent
tie to their Rulers; and Ancient Greece, no less enfeebled,

206 LECTURE XII.

would fall into the arms of the conquerors all the more
readily that they spared its inhabitants everything which
they valued, even their vanity.

By means of this universal dominion of the Romans,
there were spread abroad over the whole civilized world
Civil Freedom, participation in Civil Rights for all free-
born men, Justice according to a fixed law, Financial
Administration upon settled principles, actual care for
the existence of the people, milder and more humane
manners, respect for the customs, the religion, and the
ways of thinking of other nations : all this in consti
tutional theory at least, although these principles might
sometimes be repudiated in the actual administration of
Government.

This was the fulness, the maturity of Ancient Civiliza
tion : a state of Right, at least in form ; to which Hu
manity must first be raised before a new development
could begin. Scarcely, however, had Humanity attained
this state, than this new development appeared. The
True Religion of the Normal People, hitherto preserved
in an obscurity which concealed it from the eye of His
tory, now came forth to the open day, and spread itself
almost unimpeded over the realm of Culture which was
now fortunately embraced in one single State. It was
among the first maxims of this State to take no note
of the religious opinions of subject nations; and thus it
was impossible that it should thoroughly understand this
Religion, and foresee the consequent fate which awaited
itself. Had not the new Religion been accidentally placed
in antagonism to the worship offered to the statues of
the Emperors, it might undoubtedly have long remained
unnoticed by the State.

In the contest which arose upon this ground the new
Religion finally attained even the outward victory, and
became the predominant Religion of the State. But as
the State did not produce the Religion, nor the Religion

HISTORICAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE STATE. 207

give birth to the State, it remained a foreign ingredient
in the Constitution, which was never penetrated by its
spirit. It was necessary that this Religion should itself
become the creative principle of a new State ; and hence
the old Constitution, which was incapable of assuming
a new form, must be destroyed ; elements, which ap
parently for this very purpose had lain concealed in
darkness far removed even from the eye of History,
must now come into play ; for thus only could the new
Creation, of which we have hereafter to speak, enter
on its appointed work.

( 209 )

LECTURE XIII.

INFLUENCE OF CHRISTIANITY ON THE STATE.

THE one True Religion, or Christianity, must and ought
to become the creative and governing principle of a new
State : this we announced at the close of our last Lecture.
Such was the actual course of events, and thereby arose
an entirely New Era.

Before commencing the inquiry for which we have thus
opened the way, and upon which we are now to enter, we
must first of all direct your attention to one remark of the
highest importance in any historical survey; namely, that
it is only by a very slow and tardy course that the great
events of History develop themselves and become visible
in their results. The historical inquirer who, with regard
to such an event, does not know how to anticipate experi
ence, and to supply what is wanting in foresight by means
of the laws of human development, possesses only fragments
torn from their connexion which he can never understand,
being without a knowledge of the organic whole to which
they belong. This is the case with the whole History of
Modern Times, the true principle of which is the mani
festation of Christianity. That the Old Time has passed
away, and that we stand above its grave amid an in
tricate and wonderful concourse of new elements, any
one may observe by merely opening his eyes ; but what

d a

210 LECTUllE XIII.

this concourse of elements may signify, and to what it
may tend, cannot be understood by mere external ob
servation, but only by deeper insight. According to our
opinion, which we have already frankly declared in
another place, Christianity has never yet attained a
general and public existence in its purity and truth ;
although it has, at all times, attained a true life here
and there in individual minds. But this is not incon
sistent with the assertion which we also make, that it
has had an active and efficient life in History, in prepar
ing the way for itself and in bringing about the conditions
necessary to its public existence. He who possesses a mere
historical knowledge of this preliminary activity, but is
ignorant of its real nature and tendency, necessarily
confounds the accidental with the essential and the
means with the end ; and he can never arrive at a true
comprehension even of this preliminary activity itself.
The part which Christianity has to play in the History
of the World, for of this only have we now to speak,
is not yet concluded; and whoever cannot enter into
the meaning of the whole vast Drama should not pre
sume to pass any judgment upon it. In like mariner, to
avail ourselves of a kindred example, the part which has
been assigned to the Reformation in human History, of
which we have already had occasion to speak in a very
limited connexion, is by no means concluded.

After this preliminary remark, the application of which
will soon become apparent, let us now proceed to our task.
Christianity itself must and ought to become the gover
ning or creative principle of the State as exemplified in a
New Era. We must, in the first place, answer this ques
tion, In what way can Christianity accomplish this, and
on what ground does it rest its claim to do so ? I reply,
Its operation may be regarded in a double aspect : it
is partly absolute, as that of true and genuine Christianity ;
and partly contingent, determined by the position of things

INFLUENCE OF CHRISTIANITY ON THE STATE. 211

amid which it strives at first to raise itself to purity and
perfectness. In the first place, as respects the former
view of the activity of True Religion ; this Religion is
precisely similar to the Love of Goodness which we have
described at the close of a former lecture ; which Good
ness appears to the religious sense as the immediate work
of God within us; while we, in the accomplishment of
this work, are regarded as the instruments of God. We
formerly remarked that this Love of Goodness sets itself
entirely free even from the Perfect State, and raises itself
completely above all compulsive Authority ; and for the
same reasons this may also be said of the True Reli
gion. That which the God-devoted man may not do on
any consideration, is indeed also outwardly forbidden in
the Perfect State; but he has already cast it from him in
obedience to the Will of God without regard to any out
ward prohibition. That which alone this God-devoted
man loves and desires to do, is indeed outwardly com
manded in this Perfect State ; but he has already done
it in obedience to the Will of God. If, then, this religious
frame of mind is to exist in the State and yet never to
come into collision with it, it is absolutely necessary that
the State should at all times keep pace with the develop
ment of the religious sense among its Citizens, so that
it shall never command anything which True Religion
forbids, or forbid anything which she enjoins. In such a
state of things, the well-known principle, that we must
obey God rather than man, could never come into appli
cation ; for in that case man would only command what
God also commanded, and there would remain to the
willing servant only the choice whether he would pay his
obedience to the command as that of human power, or as
the Will of God which he loves before all things else.
From this perfect Freedom and superiority which Religion
possesses over the State arises the duty of both to keep
themselves absolutely separate, and to cast off all inline-

212 LECTURE XIII.

dicate dependence on each other. Religion must never lay
claim to the compulsive power by which the State enforces
its purposes, for Religion, like the Love of Goodness,
exists inwardly and invisibly in the heart, and never ap
pears in outward actions, which, although in accordance
with the Law, may yet have proceeded from other motives
altogether; while the State can order only the visible
actions of men. Religion is Love, while force is the in
strument of the State ; and nothing can be more perverse
than the desire to enforce Love by outward constraint.
On the other hand, the State must never attempt to use
Religion for the furtherance of its purposes ; for in so
doing, it would place reliance upon an element which is
not within its power, and which on that account might
not fulfil its expectations ; in which case it would have
calculated falsely and thus have failed in its purpose ; it
must be able of itself to enforce what it commands, and
must command nothing but what it is able to enforce.
This is the negative influence of Religion on the State, or
rather the negative reciprocal influence of both on each
other : that by the existence of the first, the State is
confined within its own proper limits, and both are strict
ly separated from each other.

In the view of True Religion, and in particular of Chris
tianity, Humanity is the one, visible, efficient, living, and
independent existence of God ; or, if the expression be
not misunderstood, the one manifestation and effluence of
that Existence ; a beam from the Eternal Light, which
divides itself, not in reality but only to mere earthly
vision, into many individual rays. Therefore all which
truly belongs to this Humanity is, according to this doc
trine, essentially one and identical throughout ; and is in
all its elements destined in the same way lovingly to re
turn to its Original and therein to be blessed. This
vocation, thus set before man by Religion, must not be
disturbed or hindered by the State ; which must therefore

INFLUENCE OF CHRISTIANITY ON THE STATE. 213

allow to all men, and as the administrator of the purposes
of the Human Race must provide for all men, equal ac
cess to the existing sources of the Culture by which they
may be prepared for this vocation. This is only possible
by the establishment of an Absolute Equality of all men
in Personal as well as Civil Freedom ; in respect of Eights
as well as Right. Thus the same purpose which belongs
to the State as such, it receives anew from the hands of
Religion ; and this is the positive influence of Religion on
the State, not that it gives a new purpose to the State,
which would be inconsistent with the separation from
each other which we have already required, but that it
summons up deeper sympathies in aid of the purpose
which already belongs to the State, and impels it more
powerfully towards the attainment of that purpose. Both
of these developments, indeed, that of the true Religious
sense, as well as that of Political order, only proceed
by slow and gradual movements, and to a certain extent
keep pace with each other ; but there is nothing to pre
vent the former, at least in Individuals, from preceding
and partly guiding the latter.

Such is the case with this relation when the State is
considered only in itself and in relation to its own Citi
zens. But should it happen that several independent and
sovereign States were to arise within the circle of the one
True Religion ; or, what is the same thing, that the one
State of Culture and of Christianity were broken up into
a Christian Republic of Nations, in which individual States
should be, not indeed constrained, but incessantly observed
and judged by the others; then there would be found
laid down in the Christian Doctrine a universally applicable
Canon for the determination of what is praiseworthy, what
tolerable, and what censurable, in the intercourse of one
State with another, as well as in the conduct of private
Citizens ; and the otherwise absolute Monarch, even after
he had silenced his own subjects, would still, if any sense

LECTURE XIIT.

of honour dwelt within him, have to stand in dread of the
testimony and judgment of neighbouring States, and of
posterity whose opinion will be guided by that judgment ;
or, should he even have cast aside this feeling, he would
still have to fear the consequences of the loss of general
confidence. Thus there would arise by means of this Re
ligion a Public Opinion throughout the whole realm of
Culture, and in it, a Sovereignty of no mean importance
over Sovereigns, which would leave them at full liberty
to do good, while it would often effectually restrain the
desire of wrong-doing.

Such is the influence of Christianity on the State, when
this Religion and its influence are considered absolutely.
Another influence ifi that which this Religion may exer
cise contingently, determined by the conditions of the time
amid which it, as yet, only strives to attain an independent
existence and fitting sphere of action. This contingent
influence, which it did actually exercise and in part does
exercise even to the present day, was determined by the
condition of the men upon whom it was first directed.
At that time the superstitious dread of the Godhead as
a hostile being, as well as the feeling of personal sin-
fulness, weighed more heavily and universally than at
any other upon the inhabitants of civilized countries ;
and there existed a secret looking towards the East,
and particularly towards Judea, whence some means of
atonement and expiation were expected to arise. Many
circumstances in History prove this : for example,
the attachment to Oriental Mysteries which was so
generally diffused even in Rome itself; and the im
mense treasures which found their way from all parts
of Asia, and even from Europe, to the temple at Jeru
salem. Christianity, as we have shown in the proper place,
is no method of atonement and expiation: Man can never
disunite himself from the Godhead; and in so far as he
fancies himself so disunited he is a Nonentity, which on

INFLUENCE OF CHRISTIANITY ON THE STATE. 215

that very account cannot sin, but on whose forehead
the imaginary brand of Sin is placed that he may thereby
be directed to the True God. In the hands of such
Ages, however, Christianity was necessarily changed into
a means of atonement and expiation, and assumed the
form of a New Covenant with God ; because these Ages
had no need of a Religion, and indeed no capacity for
receiving one, except in this shape. And thus that
Christian System which, when I formerly spoke of this
subject, I called a degenerate form of Christianity, and
the authorship of which I ascribed to the Apostle Paul,
was also a necessary product of the whole spirit of that
Age as directed upon Christianity; and that this man
and no other should have first given expression to
that spirit was quite accidental ; for had he not done
so every one who had not risen superior to his Age
by the intimate transfusion of his spirit in True Chris
tianity would have done the same ; as every one does,
even to the present day, who has filled his mind with
these pictures, and who dreams of such a mediation be
tween God and men as necessary, and cannot even con
ceive of the contrary.

After Christianity had assumed this form, and par
ticularly after the external act of initiation Baptism
had become a mysterious purification from Sin, whereby
the disciple was immediately released from the eternal
punishment consequent thereon, and without farther
effort obtained access to heaven ; it could not but follow
that the administrators of this rite should acquire the
highest reputation among men; that the guardianship
of this purity, which they had conferred by means of
the sacrament, should likewise devolve upon them ; and
that thus no human occupation should be exempt from
a jurisdiction, criticism, and guidance exercised by them
under this pretence. When this superstition at last
laid hold of the Roman Emperors themselves and the

216 LKCTURE xrir.

highest officers of their State, these too necessarily fell
under the general discipline of the Ecclesiastics, who
were consequently incited to exercise their office towards
these persons with a special and notorious zeal, which
necessarily produced the most pernicious consequences
on the authority and freedom of the Government.
These Ecclesiastics themselves were by their mental
tendencies shut out from any sound political views ; and
had scarcely any other conception of the things of this
world than as means for the propagation of their faith,
and the maintenance of what they called its purity;
they were therefore incapable either of wisely guiding
the Rulers whom they had deprived of freedom, or of
governing in their room ; and thus nothing else could
ensue but the total enervation and final destruction of the
Kingdoms in which they held sway.

Should there ever again arise a State to which this per
nicious influence might prove innocuous, and which should
be able to repel its insidious advances; then must such a
State be itself established upon Religion, in order thereby
to counteract an influence which was able only to destroy
whatever existed without its aid. In consequence of this
necessity of returning to the original and native principles
of the State, Religion was also compelled to fall back upon
her own principles and to reform herself within her
own domain. She was obliged, in the first place, to suc
ceed in converting the elements of which the new State was
composed, in order that both Citizens and Rulers might be
her own spiritual creation. In this business of conversion
she had not, as formerly, to do with superstitious, ter
rified men, who, full of hereditary dread of the Gods,
were ready upon any terms to throw themselves into her
bosom ; for similar causes would again have produced
similar effects : but she had to do with those who in
their open character and simple relations, for it is only
the complexity of relations produced by partial Culture

INFLUENCE OF CHRISTIANITY ON THE STATE. 217

which gives birth to great crimes, the horror of inward
sinfulness arid dread of the Gods ; who, I say, in their
open character and simple relations, had not hitherto
much concerned themselves about the Divinity, and in
particular, were very far from fearing Him. The con
version of such men gave to the Church, in her old
character of an expiator of Sin and a propitiator of
God, a wholly new task; this namely, artificially to
excite among this second class that superstitious fear of
God, and need of an atonement, which she had found al
ready existing among her first converts. Unquestionably
this latter was a much more difficult business, and,
with the exception of single individuals who may have felt
peculiarly conscious of sin, and certain epochs which may
have been particularly favourable to the dominion of the
Ecclesiastical Power, it has never been, in my opinion,
so perfectly and so universally accomplished among the
nations of modern Europe as it was in the Roman Em
pire ; for proof of which the student may examine in
particular the history of the Byzantine Monarchy, in
which the Ecclesiastical Power played its part throughout
a long series of years. In Modern Europe the religious
superstition at all times enjoyed the privilege of un
wearied preaching, and was freely admitted to the com
munity as a foreign ingredient; but it never struck its
root so deeply in the heart, and whenever a more power
ful interest arose it was shaken off. The whole course of
Modern History proves this; and particularly the Age
since the Reformation, in which the national character
of Modern Europe has developed itself more freely. The
Church has indeed almost ceased to preach this doctrine;
and even where it still does so it is without fruit for no
one lays it to heart.

It was farther necessary that the fundamental elements
of the New State should bear the general European
National Characteristic, a keen sense and love of Right
e a

218 LECTURE XIII.

and Freedom, in order that they might not return to
Asiatic despotism, but willingly admit the principle of
Equality of Right for All, which had been previously
developed among the Greeks and Romans. They would
have to combine with this general characteristic the
special feature of a delicate sense of Honour, in order
that they might be accessible to the legitimate influ
ence of Christianity upon Public Opinion which we have
already pointed out. Precisely such elements as we have
described were found among the Germanic Races, as if
they had been expressly reserved for this great pur
pose. I mention only these ; for the devastating inroads
of other Races had no enduring results ; and those king
doms of other origin, which are incorporated with the
Republic of Nations now existing in Europe, have for the
most part received Christianity and Culture by means of
the Germanic tribes. These Germanic tribes, who were
apparently of similar descent, to the Greeks, and must
have held intercourse with them at an earlier period
as a strict examination of the respective languages
might incontestibly prove, occupied approximately the
same stage of Culture in their forests as the Greeks in
their Heroic Age. Many a Hercules, Jason, or Theseus,
may there have assembled around them bands of will
ing associates, and achieved wonderful adventures with
them, unnoticed by History. Their worship was simple
as their manners, and they were seldom disturbed by
scruples about their moral worthiness. Independence,
freedom, and universal equality, had become natural to
them by the usage of centuries. To fix the regards of
all men by bold and hazardous enterprises, and after
death to live in the songs of after times, was the. aim of
the more noble among them ; faithfulness even unto
death, on the part of the free follower towards his
leader, was the glory and honour of others ; and any
breach of faith was universally regarded as so insup-

INFLUENCE OF CHRISTIANITY ON THE STATE. 219

portable a disgrace that even the younger and stronger,
when they forfeited the freedom they bad staked, volun
tarily surrendered themselves to the older and feebler
winner, and even to sale into the bonds of slavery.
These were the elements out of which Christianity had
to build up its new State. If, in addition to this, it hap
pened accidentally that several races of similar descent
established new States at the same time, and upon the
same foundation of Christianity and the Ancient Empire,
these States would even by that common descent be
bound more closely to each other than to foreign nations;
and the most favourable circumstance which could pos
sibly arise, both for Religion and the State, was when
Religion attained a central point in external political
power, and that power obtained an independent terri
torial possession. Not, as formerly, seating herself in
authority within the Empire, and incessantly controlling
the government; it was now the business of this Cen
tral Power to hold together from without the various
States of the One Empire of Christianity, and to become
the Arbiter between them ; she was now, by her actual
position, rather the Guardian of the rights of nations than,
as formerly, the Head of internal government. Since
that time it had become of much greater importance to
Religion that the Empire of Christianity should be
divided, and all the parts of it maintained in equal and
independent power, because in these circumstances her
aid would be needed ; than that it should again return
to the form of One State, which event, had it occurred
among these still partially untamed spirits, would likely
have brought with it dangerous consequences even to the
Spiritual Power itself. So it actually happened ; and,
under the protection of this power, individual Christian
States were enabled to develop themselves according to
their separate character, and with a considerable degree of
freedom ; and the Christian Republic of Nations, which

220 LECTURE X.IIT.

arose and was maintained by means of this Power,
was further extended and enlarged, partly by the armed
conquest of single States from the dominion of Non-
Christianity, partly by peaceful conquest, by means of
conversion of new Empires to Christianity, and by the
consequent subjugation of these to the Central Spiritual
Power.

Thefundamentalprinciplesof this Christian Empire were,
and for the most part are to the present day, the follow
ing: First, with respect to the Rights of Nations: A
State, because it is a Christian State, has a right of exist
ence in its actually present condition; it is possessed of a
perfectly independent Sovereignty, and no other Christian
State, the Spiritual Central Power in its own peculiar
office excepted, may demand a voice in the arrangement
of its internal affairs. All Christian States stand to
wards each other in the position of reciprocal recognition
and of original peace : of original peace, I say ; that is,
there can no war arise with respect to the existence of
a State, although war may well arise as to the fortuitous
modifications of that existence. By this principle, a
war of extermination between Christian States is strict
ly prohibited. Not so as regards Non-Christian States ;
these, according to the same principle, have no re
cognised existence, and they not only may, but ought
to be, expelled from the circle of Christian dominion.
The Church gives them no peace ; and should such a
peace be conceded by Christian powers, this could only
happen from necessity, or because the Christian prin
ciple is extinguished and other motives have taken its
place. Secondly, with respect to Civil Rights : Before
God all men are free and equal ; in every Christian
State all men without exception must have the means
and opportunity conceded to them of devoting themselves
to God, and in this respect at least be assured of Per
sonal Freedom; and from this there readily follows

INFLUENCE OF CHRISTIANITY ON THE STATE. 221

complete Personal Freedom, and the principles that no
Christian can be a slave and that a Christian soil con
fers Freedom. On the other hand, according to the
same principle, the Non-Christian or Heathen, may
legitimately be made a slave.

An outward event, of too much importance to be passed
over in silence, served to urge this Christian Republic of
Nations into closer union with each other, to compel them
to regard themselves as members belonging to one Whole,
to pursue common interests, and to commence new under
takings in their common character as a Christian Republic.
In Asia which, except that it probably had been the
abode of the Normal People, had otherwise done nothing
for Humanity save the production of the True Religion,
there arose a second and younger branch of this True
Religion, namely, Mohammedanism, obviously from one
and the same source as Christianity, but by no means
admitting the entire abrogation of the Ancient Covenant
with God ; hence accepting from Judaism whatever was
applicable to its own condition, and thus bringing along
with it the germ of its gradual corruption and final
ruin, and rejecting the inexhaustible source of outward
perfection which Christianity contains within itself.
Zealous in proselytism like Christianity; expert at the
.sword, by which from the first it had spread itself abroad;
vainly arrogating a superiority over Christianity on ac
count of a distinction of little importance in itself, this
namely, that it distinctly declared the Unity of God a
doctrine which was essentially pre-supposed in Chris
tianity, and that it was not wholly imbued with such
gross superstition as the Christianity of the Time; lastly,
dogmatically inculcating Despotism, and that mute and
unquestioning submission which is peculiar to the East, as
its political principles; this Mohammedanism waged war
with Christianity and proved a victorious assailant. Be
sides extinguishing Christianity altogether in a consider-

222 LECTURE XIII.

able extent of territory, and establishing itself as the do
minant Religion, there was yet a circumstance connected
with these triumphs which made them peculiarly painful to
Christianity, .namely, that among the countries thus lost,
there was that Land especially to which Christianity owed
its birth, and towards which the romantic piety of the
new Christians devoutly turned its regards. To indig
nation succeeded a burning desire of action ; and with a
free enthusiasm like what might have animated them in
their native forests, not as Citizens of this State or of
that, but only as Christians, hosts of the Germanic
tribes precipitated themselves upon that Land to win it
back from Saracen domination. However unsatisfactory
may have been the result of these undertakings; what
ever evil may have been said of the Crusades by critics
who have never been able to forget their own Age, and
to transplant themselves into the spirit of other times so
as to obtain a complete survey of the whole ; they still
remain an ever-memorable manifestation of power on
the part of a One united Christian World as such, wholly
independent of the individuality of the several States
into which it was broken up. The knowledge of many
important peculiarities of these enemies, as well as ob
servation of the crimes of which they were themselves
accused, and accused others in return, was no unimportant
fruit of the undertaking.

At a later period Mohammedanism, which had already
in the early times of the Christian State penetrated
into those countries which seemed to be set apart as
the exclusive possession of Christianity, namely into Eu
rope, and had been driven thence in feebleness, now re
appeared there on another and more dangerous side,
and amid a new nation, the Turks, with the un
disguised purpose of its gradual conquest and subju
gation. Then awoke again, for the last time, at least
in discourses and public writings, the idea of Christians

INFLUENCE OF CHRISTIANITY ON THE STATE. 223

forming but One State and possessing one common
interest; until, at last, the dreaded enemy, involved in
the meshes of European policy, grew old in itself and
began its course of decay towards internal dissolution.

These are, in my opinion, the external conditions under
which the Christian State-system of Modern Europe has
begun and continued its development. How the true
State-Constitution develops itself in individual States
under these outward conditions, hindered or furthered
by them ; how it has received within itself, and further
cultivated, whatever it has found already existing in
the world ; we shall see in the future lectures ; if we
may venture to hope that these inquiries continue to
possess an interest for you, and can still attract and
hold together the remaining body of our accustomed
1) carers.

( 225 )

LECTUKE XIV.

THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE STATE IN MODERN EUROPE.

IT was Christianity which assembled together the social
elements of a New Age, and wrought out their spiritual
regeneration; it was the administrators of this Christianity,
now become a Politico-Spiritual Central Power, who upheld
the New State, now broken up into a Republic of Nations,
in this condition of separation; who ordered the recipro
cal relations of Individual States, and even constrained
them by outward motives to coalesce into one acting
power; and under whose protection each particular
State enjoyed and exercised its independence, and the
liberty of developing its own resources and of acquiring
new strength.

The nations of Modern Europe, partly because they
could never be thoroughly penetrated by the principle upon
which the authority of the Spiritual Power depended, i.e.
that to it the office of Mediator between God and men be
longed, partly on account of their original and hereditary
love of political independence; these nations, I say, could
only submit to this guardianship so long as the individual
States were still occupied in strengthening their own in
ternal authority, and, amid the daily pressure of conflicting
elements, could not attain a distinct consciousness of their
own strength.

226 LECTURE 1V.

This internal conflict was stimulated by a peculiarity in
the earlier constitution of the Germanic Races, as well as
by their national character, and it was carefully main
tained and employed by the Spiritual Central Power, which
was well acquainted with the conditions of the influence
of that peculiarity. The firmest and only permanent rela
tion among these otherwise inconstant and ever-changing
masses was unquestionably, in the case of the Germanic
Races, the personal connexion between the willing and
faithful Follower and the Leader to whom he had freely
attached himself.

The Germanic conquerors and founders of States were
essentially such Leaders, and in their loyal Followers,
personally devoted to them in life and death, the true
strength and efficiency of their hosts consisted, to
which other wandering masses only attached themselves.
Pledged to the maintenance of their Followers, the con
querors bestowed lands upon them, and transferred to
the possession of the land that bond which had pre
viously been a mere personal agreement ; so that the
reciprocal obligations of both the parties to this covenant
afterwards even became hereditary. The former volun
tary and personal bond became a permanent political
bond, and the Feudal System arose. But this state of
things could not continue. The Germanic nations might
indeed subject themselves voluntarily out of admiration
for the personal superiority of their Leaders, but their
love of independence could not brook a political subju
gation. The vassals struggled to acquire this independence;
the Rulers opposed them with the aid of recognised
authority; and the Spiritual Central Power, supported in
like manner, sought to hold the balance between both
parties, and thus to perpetuate the struggle, and there
with the necessity of its mediation, and the internal
insufficiency of the individual States. This struggle
ended, the outer rampart of its empire would be thrown

DEVELOPMENT OF THE STATE IN MODERN EUROPE. 227

down. There were two ways in which the struggle
might come to a close : either by the overthrow of the
vassals, as occurred in one of the leading States of
Christendom (France) ; or by the defeat of the ruling
power, as occurred in another leading State (Germany.)
If we suppose that in the latter case considerable masses
remained united, so that the former vassals now associated
themselves into States and could bind their vassals in
turn, a complete resolution of the strife did not ensue.
In the latter country, the Church - Reformation united
itself as by a miracle with these victorious beginnings,
and those who struggled for emancipation received in it
a new confederate, whom they knew well how to employ
against the power of the Empire which desired their
subjugation ; and against the Spiritual Power, which did
not indeed desire their subjugation, but looked with as
little favour on their complete independence.

The political principles of this Reformation, in so far as
they were directed against the influence of the Spiritual
Central Power, found admission even in quarters where
they should not have been employed against the highest
power of the State, and where the dogmatic principles of the
Reformation were rejected. And in this way the political
influence of that Spiritual Central Power was brought to
a close, and it retained only its dogmatic and disciplinary
Ecclesiastical sway in those places to which the Church-
Reformation did not extend.

By means of. this complete reform of the realm of
Culture, its bond of union as the one and undivided
Christian Republic received an entirely new foundation
and support, as well as new modifications. This union
was no longer clearly recognised and distinctly acted
upon as a principle ; but it, as well as the fundamental
conceptions which proceeded from it, and which we have
set forth in our last lecture, became rather a dim instinct,
an accustomed supposition, made and acted upon without

228 ."" LECTURE xiv.

distinct consciousness; arid it passed from the guardian
ship of the Church to that of Public Opinion, of History,
and of Authors in general.

In the first place : There is a necessary tendency in
every cultivated State, to extend itself generally, and to
include all men within the unity of its Citizenship. Such
is the case in Ancient History. In Modern Times a
barrier was opposed to this tendency by the internal
weakness of the States, and by the Spiritual Central
Power, whose interest it was that the Realm of Culture
should remain divided. As the States became stronger
in themselves and cast off that foreign power, the
tendency towards a Universal Monarchy over the whole
Christian World necessarily came to light; and this so
much the more since it was but one common Culture
which had developed itself in the different States, though
with various modifications. In reference to these particu
lar modifications they had all received only a partial
cultivation ; and in such a state of partial culture, as we
have already remarked, each State is tempted to consider
its own civilization as the best, and to imagine that the
inhabitants of other countries would esteem themselves
very fortunate were they but Citizens of its Realm.

This tendency towards Universal Monarchy, as well as
the conquest of other Christian States, was rendered so
much the easier in this realm of Christendom inasmuch as
the manners and customs of the European Nations and
their Political Constitutions are almost everywhere alike.
Besides there are one or two Languages which are common
to the cultivated classes among all nations, while those
which are not so generally known may, in case of neces
sity, be easily acquired. On this account the conquered,
finding themselves in nearly the same position under
their new government as under the old, have little
interest in the question who shall be their ruler ; and
thus the conquerors can in a short time, and with

DEVELOPMENT OF THE STATE IN MODERN EUROPE. 229.

little trouble, recast the new provinces in the form
of the old, and use the former as freely as the latter.
Through the Reformation, indeed, many forms of the
one essentially indivisible Christianity have arisen ; and
among these, in part, a most hostile aversion. Against
this source of distraction, however, each State has the
easy remedy of peaceful Toleration and equal rights to
all ; and thus once more, as formerly in the Heathen
Roman Empire, Religious Toleration and accommodation
in particulars to the manners of other nations, have become
an excellent means of making and maintaining conquests ;
while at the same time, the union of several creeds in one
political body efficiently promotes the purpose which, in our
former lecture, we have described as the absolute purpose
of Christianity, the complete separation of Religion from
the State, since the State must thus become neutral
and indifferent towards all creeds.

This tendency towards a Christian-European Universal
Monarchy has shown itself successively in the several
States which could make pretensions to such a dominion,
and, since the fall of the Papacy, it has become the sole
animating principle of our History. We by no means
seek by this assertion to determine whether this notion
of Universal Monarchy has ever been distinctly entertained
as a definite plan ; the Historian may even lead a nega
tive proof, and attempt to show that this thought has
never attained a clear and distinct acceptance in any
individual mind, without our principle being thereby over
thrown. Whether clearly or not, it may be obscurely,
yet has this tendency lain at the root of the undertakings
of many States in Modern Times, for only by this prin
ciple can these undertakings be explained. Many States,
already powerful in themselves, and indeed the more on
that account, have exhibited a marked desire for yet more
extensive dominion, and have constantly sought to acquire
new provinces by intermarriage, treaty, or conquest ; not

230 LECTURE XIV.

from the realms of Barbarism, which would give another
aspect to the business, but within the empire of Chris
tianity itself. To what purpose did they propose to apply
this accession of power, and to what purpose did they act
ually apply it when it was attained ? To acquire yet more
extensive possessions. And where would this progress
have had an end, had matters but proceeded according to
the desire of these States ? Only at the point where there
was nothing more left to satiate the desire of acquisition.
Although no individual Epoch may have contemplated
this purpose, yet is this the spirit which runs through all
these individual Epochs, and invisibly urges them onward.

Against this desire of aggrandizement, the less powerful
States are now compelled to contrive means for their own
preservation ; one condition of which is the preservation
of other States, in order that the power of the natural
enemy may not be increased by the acquisition of any of
these States to the prejudice of the rest : in one word, it
becomes the business of the less powerful States to main
tain a Balance of Power in Christendom. What we our
selves cannot acquire, no other shall acquire, because his
power would thereby obtain a disproportionate addition ;
and thus the care of the greater States for their own pre
servation is at the same time the protection of the weaker
communities: or, If we cannot hinder others from
aggrandizing themselves, then we must also secure for
ourselves a proportionate aggrandizement.

No State, however, strives to maintain this Balance of
Power in the European Republic of Nations, except on ac
count of its being unable to attain something still more
desirable ; and because it cannot yet realize the purpose
of its individual aggrandizement, and the idea of Universal
Monarchy which lies at the foundation of that purpose :
whenever it becomes more powerful it surely embraces this
design. Thus each State either strives to attain this Uni
versal Christian Monarchy, or at least to acquire the power

DEVELOPMENT OF THE STATE IN MODERN EUROPE. 231

of striving after it ; to maintain the Balance of Power
when it is in danger of being disturbed by another ; and,
in secret, for power that it may eventually disturb it itself.

This is the natural and necessary course of things, whe
ther it be confessed or not, whether it be even recognised
or not. That a State, even when taken on the very point
of warfare, should solemnly assert its love of peace and its
aversion to conquest, is nothing; for, in the first place,
it must make this averment and so hide its real intention
if it would succeed in its design ; and the well-known prin
ciple, Threaten war that thou mayest have peace, may
also be inverted in this way Promise peace that thou
mayest begin war with advantage ; and, in the second
place, it may be wholly in earnest with this assurance at
the time, so far as it knows itself: but let the favourable
opportunity for aggrandizement present itself and the
previous good resolution is forgotten. And thus, in the
ceaseless struggles of the Christian Republic do weak
States gradually raise themselves first to an equality, and
then to a superiority, of power ; while others which before
had boldly strode onwards to Universal Monarchy, now
contend only for the maintenance of the Balance of Power ;
and a third class, who perhaps have formerly occupied
both of these positions, and still remain free and indepen
dent with respect to their internal affairs, have yet, in
their external relations, and as regards their political
power in Europe, become mere appendages to other and
more powerful States. And so, by means of these vicissi
tudes, Nature strives after, and maintains, an equilibrium,
through the very struggles of men for superiority.

A less powerful State, simply because it is less powerful,
cannot extend itself by foreign conquest. How then shall
it attain any considerable importance within this neces
sary limitation ? There is no other means possible but
the cultivation of internal strength. Should it not even
acquire a single foot of new ground, yet if its ancient soil

232 LECTURE XIV.

be better peopled, more rich in all human purposes,
then, without gaining territory, it has gained men as the
strength and muscle of its State ; and should they have
come to it from other States, it has won them from its
natural rivals. This is the first peaceful conquest, with
which each less powerful State in Christian Europe may
commence to work out its own elevation ; for the Chris
tian Europeans are essentially but one people ; recognise
this common Europe as their one true Fatherland ; and,
from one end of it to the other, pursue nearly the same
purposes, and are actuated by similar motives. They seek
Personal Freedom, Justice, and Laws under which all
men shall be equal, and by which all shall be protected
without exception or favour; they seek opportunity to
earn their subsistence by labour and industry ; they seek
Religious Toleration for their creeds ; Mental Freedom,
that they may think according to their own religious and
scientific opinions, express these openly, and form their
judgments thereby. Where any one of these elements is
awanting, thence they long to depart ; where these are
secured to them, there they gladly resort. Now all these
elements already belong to the necessary purposes of the
State as such : in the present position of individual States
towards each other, these purposes are also forced upon it
by necessity, and by the care for its own preservation ; for
the fear of subjugation compels it to self-aggrandizement,
and it has, at first, no other means of aggrandizement
than that which we have pointed out.

But there is another way by which the State may at
tract to itself, if not the men of neighbouring States, yet
the powers of these men, and may make these powers
tributary to itself; and this method plays too important a
part in Modern History to be passed over in silence. It
consists in a State monopolizing universal Commerce, ac
quiring exclusive possession of commodities which are
generally sought for, and of money, the universal medium

DEVELOPMENT OF THE STATE IN MODERN EUROPE. 233

of exchange ; thenceforward determining prices for the
rest of the world, and so compelling the whole Christian
Republic of Nations to pay for those wars which it has
from time to time undertaken against the whole Christian
Republic for the purpose of maintaining this superiority;
and to defray the interest of a National Debt contracted
for the same purpose. It might possibly be found upon
calculation, that when the inhabitant of a country thou
sands of miles distant has paid for his daily meal, he has
spent one-half or three-fourths of the produce of his day s
labour for the purposes of this foreign State. I mention
this method, not for the purpose of recommending it ; for
its success is founded only on the imbecility of the rest of
the world, and it would return with fearful retribution upon
its inventors were this imbecility removed ; but I mention
it only in order to point out the remedy against it. This
remedy consists in rejecting the use of these commodities ;
in ceasing to think that the wealth of this State is the only
wealth ; and in believing that a State which has made it
self independent in a mercantile respect can make wealth
of what it pleases. But upon this point there is a veil
over the eyes of the Age which it is impossible to remove ;
and it is in vain to waste words on the subject.

When a less powerful State has in the first place acquired
internal strength by the methods which we have pointed
out ; and perhaps thereby become sufficiently powerful to
attempt foreign conquest; and, it maybe, has succeeded in
this undertaking; it then encounters a new difficulty: it
has entirely destroyed the previous Balance of Power, and
the order of things then existing; and the new-comer excites
the jealousy and distrust of other States more strongly than
those powers with which they are already familiar. It
must henceforward be always on its guard, maintain its
energies in a state of constant readiness and efficiency, and
leave no means unemployed to add at least to its internal
strength when no favourable opportunity presents itself

9 a

234 LECTURE XIV.

for outward expansion. With reference to external affairs,
it is a part of this policy to take the weaker neighbouring
States under its protection, and thereby make its interest
in its own preservation likewise theirs, so that, in pos
sibly succeeding wars, it may be able to calculate upon
their power as well as its own. With reference to inter
nal affairs, there are likewise other cares which belong to
this policy, besides the methods which we have already
pointed out, of attracting new dwellers to the country,
and retaining its old inhabitants ; namely, the care for
the preservation and increase of the Human Race, by en
couraging marriage and the rearing of children, by sani
tary regulations, &c., the promotion of the dominion of
man over Nature, which we have already sufficiently de
scribed, by the systematic and progressive improvement
of Agriculture, Manufactures, and Commerce, and by the
maintenance of the necessary equilibrium between these
three branches of Industry ; in short, by all that may be
comprehended in the idea of Political Science, when that
idea is thoroughly understood. Those who deride such
endeavours under the name of Economy, have only looked
upon the outward vesture, and have not penetrated to
the essential nature and true meaning of these forms
of Industry. Among other questions, this one too has
been proposed : Whether the population of a State may
not become too large ? In our opinion, the indolent and
unproductive Citizen is at all times, and in every state of
the population, superfluous and unnecessary ; but when,
ivith a growing population, Agriculture, Manufactures, and
Commerce also increase in suitable proportions to each
other, then the country can never have too many in
habitants ; for the productiveness of Nature, when syste
matically cultivated, may be regarded as inexhaustible.

All these measures are, as we have shown above, the
proper and natural purposes of the State; in the present
Political System, however, they are even forced upon it by

DEVELOPMENT OF THE STATE IN MODERN EUROPE, 235

necessity. It is quite possible that, in what we have now
set forth, we may have merely described that which existing
States, who lay claim to high culture, actually do and prac
tise; but we have set it forth with a new significance. We
have seen that these things are not done by mere chance,
but that these States are compelled to them by neces
sity; and we have thereby pointed out the guarantee
which we possess that they must continue to do the-se
things, and to do them more and more thoroughly, if
they would not lose their place in the onward throng of
Nations, and be finally vanquished and overthrown.

Finally, there is, in the present Political System of
Europe, another purpose given to the State by the same
necessity, namely, that establishment of Equal Rights
for all men which has never yet been realized in the
world, and the gradual abolition of those social inequali
ties which still exist in Christian Europe as remnants
of the Feudal System. I touch upon this subject in
rny present position without fear ; I believe that I should
do wrong to the honourable assembly whom I address
were I to harbour the slightest doubt of their willingness
to have this subject discussed. Who is there among us
who thinks himself superior to the People, who, even with
such distinctions, has not, directly or indirectly, reaped ad
vantage from them ? It is right that we should accept
whatever is offered to us by our Age, but we ought also
to be content at all times to relinquish Privileges which
the Age can no longer confer.

The necessity which is thus imposed on the State arises
in thefollowing way: Compelled, constantly and regularly,
to call forth and appropriate as much of the power of its
less favoured citizens as they can devote to it consistently
with their own personal freedom and subsistence, it cannot,
when there is need of still greater effort, exact more from
them than it has already received. There remains no other
way of escape from the difficulty, than to call upon the

236 LECTURE XIV.

Privileged Orders and Classes. Although this may occur
at first only in a passing emergency, the desire to
command, at all times and by right, the power which it
lias once commanded, will easily be excited : and the
way to its accomplishment, once discovered, will be
readily found again. Add to this, that even the un
privileged members of the State would render more
efficient service to it if they were not forced to be
subservient to the Privileged Orders. A State which
constantly seeks to increase its internal strength, is thus
forced to desire the gradual abolition of all Privileges,
and the establishment of Equal Rights for all men, in
order that it, the State itself, may enter upon its own
true Right, to apply the whole surplus power of all its
Citizens, without exception, for the furtherance of its own
purposes. The truest and most fruitful view of these
Privileges, would thus, in our opinion, be the following :
They are a public treasure, committed by the infant
State, which neither required to employ its whole powers
nor knew how to employ them, to the hands of its
more cultivated members, to be freely employed by
them, according to their best judgment, for the promo
tion of free Culture. The more fully and efficiently this
purpose has been carried out, the more is the internal
strength of the State gradually increased through the ser
vices of these privileged members, and the longer may
they be left in possession of the trust which they so faith
fully administer. But should a time arrive when this
free Culture must give place to an Artificial Civilization
proceeding according to Laws ; and when the State must
undertake the direct administration, by its own hands, of
this capital hitherto deposited with them ; then it must
demand restitution of these Privileges, but in such a manner
that no sudden overthrow of existing relations may ensue,
and therefore a gradual restitution. The truly Free and
Noble will readily make this sacrifice as an offering on their

DEVELOPMENT OF THE STATE IN MODERN EUROPE. 237

country s altar : those who need to be compelled to this
restitution only prove thereby that they have never been
worthy to hold the trust committed to them.

To preclude the possibility of any misconception on this
point, I shall at once set forth the highest principle of my
views upon the Equality of Human Rights. The common
trivial theory supposes the State to have been preceded
by an imaginary lawless state of Nature in which mere
force was the master; the stronger appropriating all
that fell within their grasp, and the weaker going away
empty. The results of this state of lawlessness are
afterwards confirmed by Law, which makes that just
which in itself was absolutely unjust ; and the State
exists only for the purpose of protecting the powerful in
the enjoyment of their hoards by whatever means these
may have been accumulated, and of preventing those who
went away empty from the division from ever acquiring
any possession. Apart from the fact that this view is
wholly unhistorical, at least so far as regards Modern
History, and that according to this view, all right of pro
perty has arisen out of the previous establishment of the
State ; it is also opposed to Reason, and its opposition to
Reason is very obvious in the expression which we have
given to it above. Every man as suck has a right to the
possession of property ; this right is equal in all men ;
whatever is convertible into property ought therefore by
Right to be equally divided among all ; and it is the grad
ual accomplishment of this Equal Division of that which
Nature and Accident have divided unequally, towards
which, under the guidance of Nature itself, the State is
impelled by necessity and by the care for its own pre
servation.

All that I have now set forth in detail is that gradual
interpenetration of the Citizen by the State which I have laid
down as the political characteristic of our Age ; and it is
now your business to determine whether such is the actual

238 LECTUKE XIV.

state of things at least in those countries where the State
has attained the highest degree of Culture, i.e. the greatest
internal strength, and the greatest amount of commanding
influence upon the Christian Republic of Nations. We have
explained unequivocally enough, and so as to place our
meaning beyond the reach of misconception, that this inter-
penetration of the Citizen by the State, and the changing of
his whole outward activity into an instrument of the State,
is not here made the subject of censure, as it has been by
a certain visionary scheme of unrestricted freedom, which
sometimes calls itself Philosophy; but, on the contrary, we
have shown it to be a necessary purpose of the State and
of Nature. We do indeed desire Freedom, and we
ought to desire it ; but true Freedom can be obtained
only by means of the highest obedience to Law. How
it necessarily arises therefrom, we have, I think, clearly
shown on two different occasions, in the course of these
lectures. And we have not forgotten to show likewise,
that the State having once obtained possession of the
National Power, a possession which indeed it will never
relinquish, it will yet not always employ this Power
for the narrow and exclusive purpose of its own pre
servation, a purpose imposed on it only by the faults
of the time; but when that Endless Peace shall be
born to which we must surely come at last, it will then
direct it towards worthier aims.

The most cultivated State in the European Republic of
Nations is in every Age without exception the most
active and enterprising ; and each State strives most
energetically in that Epoch of its existence when it is
no longer under the necessity of struggling to main
tain its relative position among other Nations, but now
rather endeavours to acquire sufficient strength itself to
direct and modify, or even at pleasure to destroy, the
general Balance of Power ; the latter power being impos
sible without the former; and these efforts will be the

DEVELOPMENT OF THE STATE IN MODERN EUROPE. 239

more profitable for the advancement of Culture the less
such a State is favoured by accident, and the more it on
that account requires, and continues to require, the exer
cise of the sagacious policy*bf increasing and strengthening
its internal resources. A State which has yet anxiously to
struggle for the maintenance of Equilibrium must be de
ficient in internal Freedom and Independence, and in all
its proceedings must be too frequently under the necessity
of taking into consideration the purposes of neighbouring
States. A State which feels itself in possession of secure
and undisputed Superiority easily becomes careless ; sur
rounded by enterprising competitors it gradually loses its
superiority ; arid it may perhaps require the discipline
of grievous disasters to bring it back to the care of its
own interests.

In these collective peculiarities of our Age lies the
guarantee which Nature herself has given us for the con
tinued excellence of our Governments, and the compulsion
which, without our assistance, she exercises for our ad
vantage over the constraining powers of Government.

Throughout Christian Europe almost every independent
State now pursues its purpose with all the energy it pos
sesses, and the means both of internal and external aggran
dizement are not unknown. In this general struggle of
Powers, it is necessary that no advantage should be allowed
to escape, for in that case some neighbour would surely
seize upon it at once, and besides depriving us of it would
assuredly employ it against us ; that no single maxim of
good Government, and no possible branch of Administration
should be overlooked, for it is also a maxim of our neighbour
to take every possible advantage of our neglect. In this
contest that State which does not move onwards falls
behind, and declines more and more, until at length it
loses its Political Independence altogether, becomes in the
first place a mere make-weight to some other State in the
general Balance of Power, and is ultimately broken up into

240 LECTURE XIV.

provinces under the dominion of Foreign States. Every
Political Error carries with it the punishment of ultimate
ruin unless the neighbouring States are equally unwise;
and the State that would not meet destruction must avoid
such Errors.

But should it be unwise and fall into Error ? I ask, in
return, where then is the Fatherland of the truly culti
vated Christian European ? In general it is Europe ;
in particular it is that State in Europe which occupies
the highest rank of Culture. The State which commits
a fatal Error must indeed fall in course of time, and
therefore cease to hold this rank. But although it falls
and must fall, nay, on this very account, others arise,
and among them one especially which now occupies the
rank which the other held before. Let then mere Earth-
born men, who recognise their Fatherland in the soil,
the rivers, and the mountains, remain Citizens of the
fallen State, they retain what they desire, and what
constitutes their happiness ; the Sun-like Spirit, irre
sistibly attracted, will wing its way wherever there is
Light and Liberty. And in this cosmopolitan frame of
mind we may look with perfect serenity on the actions
and the fate of Nations, for ourselves and our successors,
even to the end of Time.

(241 )

LECTURE XV.

PUBLIC MORALITY OF THE PRESENT AGE.

WE begin this lecture with a remark, which properly closes
the inquiry we brought to a termination in our last
address, and opens that which we have to enter upon to
day, and is thus the point of transition from the one to
the other; a remark, the import of which we have all
along tacitly assumed, but which we now desire clearly
and distinctly to set forth.

From Christianity we have deduced the whole character
of Modern Time, and the form and manner of the de
velopment of this character. But everything which
becomes the Principle of Phenomena is, on that very
account, lost in the Phenomena themselves ; becomes
invisible to mere outward sense, and is only recognisable
to the piercing eye of reflection. Thus in so far as
Christianity has become a true Principle, it is no longer
present in clear consciousness to the men of the Age ;
on the contrary, that which they regard as Christianity
has, precisely on that account, never become a Principle,
nor is it truly accepted and received into the inward,
essential, and peculiar Life of the Age. Christianity
was to us synonymous with the One True Religion ;
and we carefully distinguished it from the various acci
dental modifications which this True Religion received

7, a

24-2 LECTURE XV.

at the time of its first appearance in the world. In so far
as the consequences of these accidental modifications have
taken firm root in the actual condition of the Human
Race, and we have already shown how far this has taken
place in the existing Constitution of the European Repub
lic of States, in so far are their true sources no longer
known or recognised, and that is frequently ascribed to
chance which is the result of Christianity.

It could not be otherwise with those relations of the
Human Race which lie beyond the jurisdiction of the
State. To mention that which ranks highest among these
after Religion, Science ; and to instance that branch of
it which has at all times had the most powerful influence
on the form of the whole domain of Science, and has, tacitly
at least, and apparently with justice, assumed the legislative
function in that domain, Philosophy ; by what. has the
love of Philosophy in modern times been kindled but by
Christianity? what has been the highest and ultimate task
< of Philosophy but thoroughly to explore and even to
rectify the Christian Doctrine ? by what means has Phi
losophy, in all its shapes, acquired its most wide-spread
influence, and, emerging from the narrow circle of its own
disciples, flowed forth over the whole Human Race, but by
means of the Symbols of Religion and in the communication
of this Religion to the People? In all Modern Times the
present history of Philosophy has been the future history
of Religious Symbols. Both proceed in the same course
towards a higher purity and an original harmony ; and
the Religious Teacher is thus the permanent Interpreter
between the learned and the unlearned Public. Thus
has the whole of Modern Philosophy directly, and by
means of it the whole form of Science indirectly, been
the creation of Christianity ; and this is also the case
with other elements of civilization; so that it may be
found that the One Permanent and Immutable Element
in the perpetual current of Modern Time is Christianity,

PUBLIC MORALITY OF THE PRESENT AGE. 243

in its pure, unchangeable form ; and that this alone shall
remain so to the end.

In pursuance of the plan which we have formerly indi
cated, we have to-day to set forth the character of the
General and Public Manners of the Present Age. After
what has been previously said, you will not be surprised if
here again we revert to Christianity, as the principle of all
Public Manners in Modern Times.

In the first place, what is meant by Manners ? and in
what sense do we use this word ? To us, and according to
our opinion, in every intelligible use of language, it signifies,
the accustomed Principles which regulate the mutual inter
course and reciprocal influence of men, and which have be
come a second nature throughout the whole domain of Culture,
but on that very account are not distinctly recognised in
Consciousness. The Principles, we have said ; and
therefore by no means the fortuitous actual course of
conduct, determined, it may be, by mere accidental cir
cumstances ; but, on the contrary, that concealed Prin
ciple of conduct which always remains the same, the
existence of which we always presuppose in Man when
ever left to his own instincts, and from which we can,
with so much apparent certainty, calculate beforehand
the course of conduct which will be its necessary result.
The Principles, I said, which have become a second nature,
but on that very account are not distinctly recognised in
Consciousness: and hence there are to be excepted from
this definition, all those impulses and motives influencing
the general course of conduct which are founded upon
Freedom, the inward impulse of Morality, as well as
the outward motive of Law; whatever Man must first
consider and then freely resolve upon does not fall
within the category of Manners. In so far as a fixed
standard of Manners may be ascribed to an Age, in so far
is it to be regarded as an unconscious instrument of the
Spirit of the Time.

244 LECTURE XV.

We have already ascribed to the introduction of the
Equality of all Men before the tribunal of Right, and
before a Legislation which should discover with cer
tainty every transgression and with equal certainty inflict
the threatened punishment, which Legislation has only
been introduced in Modern Times through the influence
of Christianity, we have ascribed, I say, to such a
Legislation a most important arid highly beneficial in
fluence upon the Manners of the Citizens. Were every
inward temptation to injustice towards others, so we
casually expressed ourselves, were every such inward
temptation crushed, even in its birth, by the conscious
ness that no other result could follow this course but
certain punishment and loss, then would the People
gradually lose the habit of even entertaining thoughts
of injustice, or of exhibiting such desires even by the
most trifling outward manifestation : all would appear
virtuous; although it were yet only the menaces of Law
which scared back evil desire to the most secret recesses of
the heart; the remembrance of these menaces would have
become a part of the Manners of the People, and thus it
would have likewise become a part of such Manners to
give way to no thought of injustice. These Manners, as
merely restraining from evil but not as yet impelling
towards good behaviour, would be negatively good ; i.e.
they would not be Bad Manners, and their production
would be the negative influence of Legislation, and through
it of Christianity, upon Public Morality.

This influence of Legislation upon Manners is necessary
and infallible : If in no case any advantage is to be ex
pected from injustice, but at all times only loss and de
triment ? then no one, if he but love himself and seek
his own welfare, can desire to be unjust. Should this
influence upon Manners fail to show itself to the antici
pated extent in actual and really efficient Legislation,
then we should have to inquire whether this defect does

PUBLIC MORALITY OF THE PKESENT AGE. 245

not arise from some existing uncertainty as to the execu
tion of the Law ; either because the guilty may with great
probability hope to remain undiscovered, or because the
course of Justice and of Judicial Inquiry and Evidence is
intricate and obscure, and presents many opportunities of
escape. In this case, the subject of temptation might
thus argue with himself: Ten others, or more perhaps
around me, have done this thing and go unpunished ; why
should I, the eleventh, be discovered ? or thus : I my
self have done this thing already ten times; let me ven
ture it again this eleventh time. Should I unfortunately
be discovered, I have already the gain of ten to set against
the loss of one ; and no exception could be taken to this
mode of reckoning. In the first case, the probability of
no accusation being made would indicate a want of strict
surveillance despite the good Legislation ; in the second
case, the hope of escaping conviction, even should an accu
sation take place, would indicate a deficiency in the re
quisite number of acute and sharp-sighted judges. In
both cases, our next task would be to discover the cause
of this deficiency ; for example, whether it did not arise
out of the necessity which we have already described of
the State employing all its powers directly for its outward
protection ; and whether such a State, were the augmen
tation of its Police or the improvement of its system of
Judicial Inquiry demanded of it, would not be forced to
lament its inability to provide the means for the accom
plishment of these purposes. In this case, it would be
necessary to represent to such a Government that inward
security and strength is yet more important than outward,
and that the former is the firmest foundation for the
latter; that the means for the attainment of the former
must first be provided, before there should be any question
of the latter condition : and should we not dare to make
these representations to the State, and were still less able
to enforce our views upon its attention, it were at least

24:6 LECTURE XV.

much to le desired that internal disorder, carried to the
highest extreme, and the frustration of its most cherished
and well-considered schemes by means of this disorder,
should force it to return to the path of Wisdom.

It may be remarked, with reference to Judicial Proce
dure, that whatever respect may be due to the endea
vour absolutely to prevent the possibility of an innocent
person being convicted, and although this endeavour must
never cease to be made ; yet the opposite duty, to take
care that no guilty person remain undiscovered and un
punished, is by no means a less important task ; that
there is nothing to hinder the solution of both ; nay, that
without the solution of the latter that of the former cannot
be attained, but on the contrary that, in such a case, the
State would be found hindering and obstructing the ac
complishment of its own purposes.

At this point, I, as an individual, have nothing further
to say, but you yourselves must judge how far this influ
ence of Legislation upon Manners has actually proceeded
in Europe, and particularly in those parts of Europe where
the State is most thoroughly cultivated ; wherein the de
fect, if defect there be, consists ; and thus in what direc
tion the New Age must proceed in its onward course.

But be it as it may with this influence of Legislation
upon the negative side of Public Morality, yet Public
Manners, wherever they exist, in turn exert a powerful
influence upon the State, and upon the mode and form of
its Legislation. This, which we shall immediately prove,
being presupposed, it is obvious that a course of action
thus directed, adopted by the State in its Legislation, is
itself but a part of the Morality of the Age, since it pro
ceeds solely from the Manners of the Citizens, and is
determined by them and not by Legislation as such ; and,
since in that case it does not even restrain the State
from injustice, such injustice being already wholly incon
sistent with Legislation, but only guides this Legislation

PUBLIC MORALITY OF THE PRESENT AGE. 24)7

into a different course, it thus becomes the positive Mo
rality of the State. Positive Good Manners, however,
consist herein, that in every individual we recognise
and honour the representative of the Human Race. This
Morality, I said, is made possible for the State, in the
way of its Legislation, by means of the negative Good
Manners of its Citizens. Thus, we may lay down the
following as the permanent fundamental principle of Cri
minal Legislation : The more certain it is that punish
ment will follow crime, and the more the Manners of the
Nation are formed upon this certainty, so much the milder
and more humane may punishment itself be made. This
amelioration, however, is not on account of the transgressor,
for whom as such the State has no ulterior regard ; but it
is on account of the Race whose image he still bears in
his person.

For example : He who is accustomed to consider this
matter not superficially, but in its profounder aspects, will
unquestionably admit that an individual may become so
dangerous to society that it is impossible for the State
thoroughly to protect society from his aggressions without
removing him from the world. It will, however, be like
wise admitted unless indeed we were to proceed upon
the barbarous Mosaic principle, an eye for an eye, and
a -tooth for a tooth, it will, I say, be admitted that the
State ought to adopt this method only in cases of extreme
necessity, and where there is actually no other course avail
able; for the transgressor still remains a member of the Race,
and as such possesses the right to live as long as he can for
the purpose of self-improvement. But admitting this course
to be necessary in particular cases, yet for the Government
to employ a pompous ceremonial in the execution of the
condemned, to sharpen the agonies of death by torments,
to expose the remains of the dead in a disgusting public
spectacle, is at most only to be justified where the great
mass of the Nation stand in need of such frightful

248 LECTURE XV.

exhibitions, in order that they ma} 7 be rendered less
prone to deeds of horror upon other occasions. In a
cultivated Age, not addicted to bloodshed, it would, in
our opinion, be sufficient if the death -judgment were
only pronounced in public, but carried into effect in
secrecy and silence ; and thereafter, the body left open to
inspection, so that any one who desired to do so might
convince himself that the sentence had been actually
completed. In short, the more civilized a People be
comes, the punishment of death, and generally all pun
ishments, must become milder and less frequent among
them.

This gradual amelioration of Criminal Legislation, we
have said, is rendered possible to the State, by means of
the improvement of Manners among the People. But, after
this possibility has been created, what shall move and impel
the State actually to realize that which has thus merely
become possible? I answer: The general opinion of Europe,
as well as, in particular, the voice of its own Citizens.
Until it has become a part of Public Manners to recognise
and honour in each individual man the representative of
the Race, the People are yet disposed to deeds of violence,
and must be held in check by means of severe and, in
part, terrible punishments. After this principle has
entered into Public Manners, and consequently deeds of
violence have become less frequent, it can no longer be
endured that any one who bears the human form, what
ever offence he may have committed, should be tortured
as an exhibition to the crowd ; the civilized man turns
away his eyes with horror from the spectacle, and the
whole world despises, as barbarous, a Government and a
Nation which still sanctions such enormities; and thus
the Government is impelled by its own love of honour,
as well as that of the Nation, to keep its Criminal
Legislation in harmony with the Spirit of the Time, and
in so doing itself to adopt Good Manners.

PUBLIC MORALITY OF THE PRESENT AGE. 249

And here once more we have attained a point where I
must appeal to your own judgment, and leave it to your
selves to compare the Past with the Present in this respect,
to determine at what point our own Age has arrived, and
in what direction it must now proceed onwards.

The inquiry which we have thus brought to a close, has
afforded us an opportunity of ascertaining and pointing
out in what positive public Good Manners consist. They
consist in habitually regarding each individual, without ex
ception, as a member of the Race, and in desiring to be so
regarded by him ; in treating him as possessing that cha
racter, and in desiring to be so treated by him in return.
To regard and to be regarded, to treat and to be treated
in return, I have said ; for both are inseparably united,
and he who does not desire the latter will not fulfil the
former condition. He to whom it is a matter of in
difference what others think of him, and how they treat
him, in those matters as to which no course of duty is
prescribed by the Law, far from accepting their judgment
as the judgment of the Race, despises them and casts
them from him as worthy of no consideration. It is in
deed unquestionably true, that any one by his own bad
conduct may place others in such a position that they can
entertain towards him no feeling save that of most profound
contempt, and they would be quite justified in doing so;
but this contempt must not be an original habit of mind ;
it must be called forth and deserved, and in that case clear
conviction takes the place of mere habit.

The chief feature in our conception of Good Manners as
above set forth is this, that every individual, without ex
ception, merely as such, and on account of his bearing the
human form, ought, in the event of his not having forfeited
this character by his own misdeeds, to be recognised as a
member and representative of the Race; or, in other
words, that the Original Equality of all men ought to be
the predominant and fundamental idea in all our inter-

i a

250 LECTURE XV.

course with our fellow-men. Now this Equality of all
men is the peculiar principle of Christianity ; hence the
universal but unconscious dominion of this Christianity,
and its acceptance as the essential actuating principle
of public life, would be also the foundation of Good
Manners, or rather would itself be Good Manners.
The unconscious dominion, I have said ; that is, when it
should be no longer publicly proclaimed, Christianity
teaches this or that ; but when the PRINCIPLE should
itself possess a true and living existence within the minds
of men, and manifest itself in all their actions.

Now, this presupposed principle has assuredly had a
recognised existence in the world since the origin of
Christianity, and no man acts in opposition to it because
no man has power to do so. Before God we are all
Equal, says many a one, and he readily admits that in
another life we shall actually be placed upon an Equality,
because this is a matter beyond his control, who never
theless himself relies upon the inequality of men in this
life, maintains this inequality with all his power, and
endeavours to draw from it the greatest possible ad
vantage to himself. The principle of Equality must
therefore be applied to the earthly relations of men, if
it is to become the source of true, active Good Manners
among them. This can only be effected through the influ
ence of the Perfect State which penetrates all men in the
same manner, each in his own place, and employs them
all as its instruments. Thus it is not the mere ideal
dominion of Christianity, but the dominion which it
acquires by means of the State, and which is realized in
the State, which is true Good Manners; and the idea
of such Good Manners may now be further defined in
this way : Each Individual is recognised as a member
of the Race when we regard him as an instrument of
the State, and desire to be so regarded by him ; when
we treat him as such, and desire to be so treated by

PUBLIC MORALITY OF THE PRESENT AGE. 251

him in return. We must desire to be so regarded and
so treated by him, I have said ; but we are not entitled to
expect or demand from him any error in this judgment, and
therefore we must actually be, and desire to be, instruments
of the State, and that to the same extent as he, although
it may be in another sphere.

The complete interpenetration of all its members by the
State, and therewith the Equality of all men in the State,
is first effected by means of the perfect conformity of the
Rights of all ; and thus perfect Good Manners consist in
the supposition of this Equality of Rights, as at least
something which ought to come to pass, and which must
come to pass ; in acting towards every man as if this
must be the case, and likewise in desiring to be treated in
return upon this supposition, and not otherwise. It is
thus clear that Inequality of Rights is the true source of
Bad Manners ; and the tacit assumption that we must
continue in this state of Inequality is itself Bad Manners.

To make this clear by farther explanation : In the first
place, there stand opposite to each other in Society the
opulent and cultivated Citizen-class, and the Privileged
Classes. Among the former, it is Bad Manners, either, on
the one hand, to set too high a value on the distinctions of
the latter, and, going beyond those ordinary conventional
forms of respect which every reasonable man concedes, to
put on a slavish, submissive, and cringing behaviour to
wards the Privileged Classes ; or, on the other hand,
enviously to grudge them the distinctions which they
enjoy, to indulge in bitterness of expression towards
them, and to represent these distinctions in false and
hateful colours, either from real antipathy, or from want
of mature reflection. These forms of Bad Manners on
the one part, naturally produce other forms of Bad
Manners on the other; either by the Privileged Classes
not spurning the unseemly homage with fitting indig
nation, but satisfying themselves with holding in little

252 LECTURE XV.

esteem those who by their own conduct invite contempt;
or by strictly repulsing every approach of the other Class,
and carefully shutting themselves up from such contact
in a system of narrow exclusiveness.

How shall these two estranged Classes of the same State
now peacefully reunite and harmonize in one and the same
system of Good Manners? The most advantageous means
of attaining that end would be, that they should be
bound together by Knowledge ; and indeed that the
Citizen-class should first find themselves in possession of
this Knowledge, and that the communication of it should
proceed from them. Were it at first to be an acquisition
of the Privileged Classes, it might be feared that they
would seek to retain exclusive possession of it, and so
appropriate, in addition to the accidental distinctions of
fortune, the far more important superiority of true worth.
Of the Citizen, educated by the light of true Knowledge,
it may be expected that he will rightly understand and
appreciate the real meaning and value of these dis
tinctions of the Privileged Classes, perchance as we have
set these forth in our preceding lecture, and just upon
that account will be as far from over-estimating as from
grudging them. The Educated Man of the Privileged
Classes, would acquire a new, peculiar, and personal value,
which would powerfully dispose him to open his eyes to
the light which true Knowledge throws upon his fortuitous
and hereditary Privileges. To both, the distinctions which
exist between them in matters of small moment would
readily disappear before their Equality in those higher
Privileges upon which they set supreme value.

Both Classes, now united by this tie, still stand opposed
in society to the great mass of the People who are engaged
in mechanical arid manual labour, and who on that
account are almost universally without that perfect in
struction of which they stand in need. This large Class
feels the oppression of its daily toil ; it sees that the

PUBLIC MORALITY OF THE PRESENT AGE. 253

Higher Classes in their copious and comfortable enjoy
ment of life do not participate in its mechanical labours :
but how these have also their labours and toils in other
spheres, how they are useful and necessary for the general
welfare, and even indispensable for the People themselves;
and in particular, what important advantages are secured
to the community by its own labour; all this it does
not know, and cannot comprehend. Under these circum
stances it cannot be but that Bad Manners should become
a second nature to the Lower Classes, prompting them to
regard the Higher Classes as oppressors who live upon
their toil, and to look upon every proposition which comes
to them from that quarter as an attempt to gain some new
advantage over them. There is no other way by which these
Lower Classes may be assisted, or their Bad Manners im
proved, except by their attaining a living conviction that
they are not made subservient to the arbitrary will of an
individual, but to the Community as a Whole ; and even
this only in so far as that "Whole needs their services ;
and that all their Fellow-Citizens, without exception, to
whatever Class they belong, stand in the same position :
but, in order that they may arrive at this conviction,
it is necessary that this should actually be the case ; for it
is in vain to indulge the hope of deceiving the Lower
Classes in matters which affect their interests. Hence
either Equality of Rights must be actually introduced ; or
else the Privileged Classes must constantly, publicly,
and before the eyes of all men, act as if this Equality
were introduced. This condition of things must be
brought distinctly under the notice of the Lower Classes,
and be made evident to them by their Teachers, who
are the mediators between them and the Higher Classes,
and who ought to be well acquainted with their language
and ways of thinking ; in one word, the People ought
to receive instruction, and indeed fundamental, solid,
and convincing instruction, not in Religion only, but-
also regarding the State, its purposes and its laws.

254 LECTURE XV.

To make my views clear by a distinct example : The
great proprietor must be able thus to speak to his depend
ants, or to enable their Teachers thus to speak for him,
and that with truth, calling to witness the daily testimony
of their own eyes: Although I possess as much as
hundreds or perhaps thousands of you do together, yet
I cannot, on that account, either eat, drink, or sleep, for
a hundred or a thousand. The undertakings in which
you see me daily engage; the experiments on a great
scale with new methods of husbandry; the introduction,
from distant lands, of new and nobler races of animals,
new plants, new seeds; the study of their proper treat
ment which, being hitherto unknown, has now to be
patiently sought out ; these demand great immediate
outlay, and the means of defraying the loss consequent
upon possible failure. You cannot afford to do this, and
hence it is not required of you : but that wherein I am
successful you may learn from me, and imitate; what
proves unsuccessful you may avoid, for I have already
encountered the risk for you. From my herds there
will gradually extend to yours those nobler races of ani
mals already domesticated with me ; from my fields there
will be propagated to yours those more profitable fruits
already inured to the climate, with the art of their cul
tivation already acquired and tested at my expense. It
is true that my granaries are plentifully filled with stores
of every kind; but to whom among you who stood in need
of aid have they ever been closed ? who among you all
has ever been in difficulty and I have not succoured him ?
AVhat you do not require shall, at the first signal given by
the State, flow forth freely to any province of our Father
land that may feel the iron hand of want. Grudge me not
the gold which I receive ; it shall be so expended as I
have hitherto expended, before your eyes, all that ever I
had; there shall not be, with my will, a single farthing of it
applied without some gain to the cause of Human Culture.

PUBLIC MORALITY OF THE PRESENT AGE. 255

Moreover, if the State shall require my money for the pay
of its armies or the support of its provinces; or the divi
sion of my goods for the maintenance of a larger popula
tion ; I shall be ready at all times to deliver them up into
its hands. I promise you, you shall not see me shrink
from my duty. Should the State not require this sacri
fice at my hands, and should I leave my possessions to
my children ; then I have educated them so that they
shall use these possessions as I have used them, and
shall teach their successors to act as I have acted, even
to the end of time.

Such is public and universal Good Manners. How far
such Manners have attained dominion in our own Age, in
those countries where the State and its Citizens have at
tained the highest point of Culture, in comparison with
earlier Ages ; in what respects the Age is yet defective,
and how our Race must next proceed forward to higher
attainments ; this I leave to the judgment of those among
you who have opportunities of making observations upon
this matter, and I do so the more readily that I myself have
not possessed such opportunities, particularly as regards
the relation of the Cultivated Classes to the People, for a
long series of years, and in certain countries have never
possessed them at all. I had nothing more to do than to
set forth in general the principles upon which such a judg
ment ought to proceed. Briefly to recount these once
more : Herein consists the true vocation and worth of
Man, that he, with all he is, has, and can do, should de
vote himself to the service of the Race ; and since, and
in so far as, the State determines the form and mode of
the service which this Race does actually need, that he
should devote himself to the service of the State. In
what mode, chosen by himself, or assigned to him by the
State, each man may do this, is of little moment, but only
that he do it: and each one is to be honoured not accor
ding to the mode in which he performs this service, but

256 LECTURE XV.

according to the extent to which he performs it in the
mode assigned to him. Even he who may not have per
formed it at all, or may have performed it most imper
fectly, is yet to be respected at least as one who ought to
perform it, who can perform it, and who perhaps one day
will perform it; and he is to be treated according to this
view. So also no one can lay claim to the honour and
respect of others upon any other ground than this, and no
pretension can justly be made to any value or influence
with others, save only in this respect. Thus would the
influence of the distinction of Classes in Society upon the
conduct of those Classes towards each other be wholly ex
tinguished, and all the Citizens of the State, and at last
the whole Human Race, be united in equal and recipro
cal esteem, and in a mode of conduct founded upon this
esteem ; because such conduct would spring from a com
mon source in which all partake in the same manner and
in the same degree.

( 257 )

LECTURE XVI.

PUBLIC RELIGION OF THE PRESENT AGE.

ACCORDING to the plan which we laid down in an early
part of these lectures, we have to-day to set forth the
principles whereon this question may be answered : At
what point of development does the Present Age stand
with reference to Public and General Religion f

We have already, for a considerable time, regarded the
True Religion, or Christianity, which two expressions we
avowedly hold to be synonymous, as the peculiar and
ultimate ground of all the phenomena by which our Age
is characterized ; and, in this view, the whole character of
the Age is nothing else than this its ascertained standing-
point in respect of Religion. The question which we have
proposed has therefore either been already answered by
all which we have previously said ; or if it has not been
so answered, and still demands a special solution, then we
must here use the word Religion in a sense different from
that in which we have hitherto employed it.

The latter is the case : Hitherto we have regarded the
True Religion as the concealed principle of phenomena ;
to-day we have to speak of it, not in this sense, but as
itself an independent and substantial existence. Hitherto
having represented it as the principle of phenomena, we
-have, on that very account, also represented it as an un-

ka

258 LECTURE XVI.

conscious principle, and in this connexion we have called
by the name of Religion, not that which men put forth in
public professions, but that which has become their very
inmost Life, the root and spring of all their speech and
action. To-day we have to consider this Religion as it
reveals itself in clear consciousness ; for the independent
existence of Religion is no outward matter, and reveals
itself in no outward manner, but is an inward conscious
ness, and indeed a wholly self-sufficing and self-compre
hending consciousness.

In this sense the word Religion is also employed in the
common judgment which the Age passes upon itself with
reference to its religious condition, in the well-known and
almost universal lamentations over the decay of Religion,
especially among the people. It might well be imagined
that the mere existence of such lamentations was itself a
refutation of the complaint, for do not the complainers,
in the very act of lamentation, manifest their respect and
love for Religion ? were it not that their complaints are
accompanied bj r certain suspicious assumptions, from which
it appears to follow that it is not their own Irreligion which
they deplore, and that it is not for themselves, but for
others, and especially for the people, that they desire a
revival of Religion : behind which desire there may per
haps lurk some interested purpose. Be this as it may,
let us examine these complaints, and with this examina
tion carry forward our own inquiry.

Without anticipating the results of your own obser
vation, we may lay it down as certain, that whatever
necessarily follows in regard to Public Religion from the
principles of the Age will unquestionably be found truly
represented and manifest in the phenomena of the time.
Now, we have shown in passing, in our previous lecture,
that the principles from which the Public Religion of an
Age proceeds, are to be found in the Scientific, and
particularly in the Philosophical character of the pre-

PUBLIC RELIGION OF THE PRESENT AGE. 259

ceding Age. In the schools of Philosophy and Science,
the popular teacher, the popular author, and the public
opinion of the cultivated classes, are formed, and through
these channels the influences of the schools spread them
selves abroad, by teaching and example, among the People.
The Philosophico-scientific character of the Third Age
has been already set forth at the commencement of these
lectures; this, namely, to accept nothing as really existing
or obligatory but that which it can understand and clearly
comprehend, in which the Age is right; and further, to
connect therewith mere empirical and sensuous Experience as
its sole measure of the Comprehensible, in which the Age
is wrong. It is quite clear, that by means of the pre
valence of these principles everything mysterious and
incomprehensible must be banished from Religion ; and
since the fear of God, as well as the means of propiti
ating him, are founded on the Incomprehensibility and
Unsearchableness of the Divine Counsels, and we can
therefore be made acquainted with these means only by
direct Revelation, that everything awful in Religion, as
well as blind faith and unquestioning obedience in its
concerns, must wholly disappear. An Age, therefore, which
is formed upon those principles, and thoroughly pene
trated by them, will no longer be moved by the fear of
God, nor employ any ostensible and pretentious means
of propitiating him.

But is this fear of God, and these efforts to propitiate
him by means of mysterious devices, are these Religion
and Christianity ? By no means : they are Super
stitions, remnants of Heathenism which have mixed
themselves up with Christianity, and have not yet been
wholly thrust out from it; and these remnants are
wholly destroyed by the Philosophy of the Age wherever
it lias free play. Along with them True Christianity
itself is, not indeed destroyed, for except in individuals
it has never yet attained a public and recognised exis-

260 LECTURE XVI.

tence, but the Age is thereby rendered incapable of
comprehending True Christianity or of introducing it
into the world.

Does any one lament this downfall of Superstition as the
decay of Religion? then he violates the true use of language,
and laments over that in which he ought to rejoice, and
which is indeed a brilliant proof of the advancement of
our Age. On what account, then, are these lamentations
made ? Since the thing which lias fallen has nothing in
itself to recommend it, it must be only the outward conse
quences of its fall that are deplored. In so far as these
lamentations do not proceed from the priests themselves,
(in this connexion we may call them priests without fear of
misapprehension), whose grief at the loss of their dominion
over the minds of men we can well understand, but
from the politicians, then they may be resolved into this,
that Government has thereby become more difficult and
expensive. The fear of the Gods was an excellent resource
for an imperfect Government; it was a convenient thing to
watch the doings of the subjects through the eyes of the
Divinity, where the Government either could not or would
not exercise this surveillance itself; the Judge was spared
the exercise of his own sagacity and penetration, when, by
threats of relentless damnation, he could induce the accused
to communicate to him willingly the information he desired
to possess; and the Evil Spirit performed, without reward,
the services for which, at later times, Judges and Police
had to be paid.

To declare frankly what we clearly perceive to be true,
let us here say that, even if the maintenance of such a
method of facilitating Government were allowable, which it
is not, yet this increase of the burden of Government is
no evil, but a precious good in which Humanity at large
must sooner or later become partaker. Government itself
is an Art founded on the laws of Reason, which ought not
to be prosecuted at random, but must, on the contrary,

PUBLIC RELIGION OF THE PRESENT AGE. 261

be rightly and fundamentally studied ; but to this fun
damental study we are only impelled by necessity, and
only at a time when Government can no longer be carried
on by superficiality.

Thus the philosophical and scientific sense of the Age
overthrows Superstition when it is thoroughly recognised
and understood ; but cannot as yet establish True Reli
gion in its place in distinct Consciousness. Hence in
such an Age, there is no longer to be found any clear
and distinct conception of a Super-sensual world, either
true or false.

Suppose then that such is actually the case, that these
inferences are confirmed by observation, which here again I
leave to yourselves to follow out, would it necessarily fol
low, because the Super-sensual is nowhere dearly compre
hended, that the indistinct feeling of the Infinite, and the
struggling and striving after its attainment no longer
exist ; in one word, that with Religion itself, the sense of
Religion, or Religious Feeling, has likewise disappeared ?
By no means. It may be laid down as an incontestable
principle, that where even Virtue and Good Manners
still prevail, philanthropy, the charities of social life,
sympathy, benevolence, domestic order, the faithful and
self-sacrificing attachment of husband and wife, parents
and children, there Religion still exists whether re
cognised or not ; and there the capacity still exists for
its attaining a full and conscious being. Such a people
can indeed no longer entertain those Superstitions
whose empire has passed away ; but let the attempt be
made to awaken in them clear and true Ideas of Religion,
and it will soon be seen that they will be moved by these
as bv nothing else. And has not this, in fact, occasionally
occurred in Modern Times? and has it not been remarked
upon such occasions that men of all Classes, who seemed
to be dead to every other spiritual influence, have been
attracted and aroused bv this ? Very far, therefore, from

262 LECTURE XVI.

joining in the lamentations over the decay of Eeligion in
our Age, I hold this rather to be the character of the Age,
that it would be more ready than any other to receive
and appreciate True Eeligion when presented to it. The
empty and ineffectual babble of Free-thinking has had time
enough to utter itself in all possible ways ; it has uttered
itself and we have listened to it; and on this side there is
nothing new and nothing letter to be said than what has
been said already. We are weary of it; we feel its empti
ness and its perfect nothingness with reference to that Feel
ing of the Eternal which can never be wholly uprooted from
pur souls. This Feeling remains, and urgently demands
its rightful exercise. A more manly Philosophy has since
then attempted to silence this Feeling by asserting the
claims of another, that of Absolute Morality, under
the name of the Categorical Imperative. Many power
ful minds have accepted this principle, and rested satisfied
with it : but this can endure only for a time, for pre
cisely on account of a kindred feeling being cultivated
does that which is unsatisfied feel more strongly the
want of its satisfaction. Let Truth at last present itself
to such a mind; then, just because it has been inactive,
and has already passed through so many errors, will it
the more keenly discern and the more cordially accept the
Truth which is now offered to its view. That such Truth will
one day present itself to the public mind we may securely
predict; for it is already prepared in the secret workshops
of Philosophy although still in the obscurity of formula,
and already exists in the primitive records of Christianity
although as yet not understood. How, and by what means
it shall be introduced into the world we must leave to
Time, looking forward with quiet confidence, and not ex
pecting to see the harvest ready for the reaper while as
yet the seed is but being sown.

Wherein, then, does this True Religion consist? Perhaps
I shall be able to describe it most clearly if I show what it

PUBLIC RELIGION OF THE PRESENT AGE. 263

accomplishes, and if I do this by declaring what it does
not accomplish. All previous outward forms of Christianity
have had the effect of bringing Mankind, and in particular
Nations and States, thus far : that they have done many
things which they would otherwise have left undone, and
have left undone many things which otherwise they would
have done; and in particular Superstition has constrained
its subjects to abandon many pernicious, and to adopt
many useful, practices. In one word : these outward forms
of Christianity lie at the bottom of many phenomena and
events which would otherwise never have occurred. It is
not so with inward True Religion; it does not come forth
into the world of outward Appearance, and impels man to
no outward act which he would not otherwise have done.
But it completes his own internal being, makes him
wholly at one with himself, and intelligible to himself,
thoroughly Free and Blessed : in one word, it perfects
his dignity.

Let us consider the highest which man can possess in
the absence of Religion ; I mean, Pure Morality. He obeys
the Law of Duty in his breast, absolutely because it is a
Law unto him; and he does whatever reveals itself as his
Duty, absolutely because it is Duty. But does he therein
understand himself? does he know what this Duty, to
which at every moment he consecrates his whole existence,
really is in itself and what is its ultimate aim ? So little
does he know this, that he declares loudly it ought to be
so absolutely because it ought; and makes this very impos
sibility of comprehending and understanding the Law,
this absolute abstraction from the meaning of the Law, and
the consequences of the deed, a characteristic mark of
genuine obedience. In the first place, let not the im
pudent assertion be here repeated, that such an obedience
without regard to consequences, and without desire for
consequences, is in itself impossible and opposed to
Human Nature. What does the mere sensuous Egoist,

264 LECTURE XVI.

who is himself but a half man, what does he know of
the power of Human Nature ? That it is possible can
be known only by its actual accomplishment in ourselves;
and before its possibility is recognised in this way, and
man has elevated himself in his own person to Pure
Morality, he can have no entrance whatever into the
domain of True Religion ; for Religion also annexes no
visible consequences to individual acts of Duty. So much
for the refutation of that portion of error which arises
from the calumnious slander of Pure Morality.

Again, he who faithfully obeys the Law of Duty, as
such, does not understand the ultimate aim of this Law.
It is clear, since he, notwithstanding this ignorance,
maintains an unvarying and unconditional obedience ;
since, further, the Law of Duty, although not understood,
speaks forth constantly and invariably within him,
that this want of comprehension causes no difference in
his actions ; but it is another question whether such a
want of comprehension is consistent with his dignity as
a rational being. He does not indeed any longer follow
the concealed law of the Universe nor the blind im
pulses of Nature, but a conception, and in doing so
he acts, thus far, a nobler part. But this conception
itself is not clear to him, and, with reference to it, he
himself is blind ; his obedience therefore remains but
a blind obedience ; he is led on by a nobler instinct
indeed, but still with bandaged eyes. But if this posi
tion be inconsistent with the dignity of Reason, as it
unquestionably is, and if there lie in Reason itself a
power and therefore an impulse to penetrate to the
meaning of the Law of Duty, then will this impulse be
a source of constant disturbance and dissatisfaction to
him, and if he still continue to hold by blind obedience,
lie will have no other course than to harden himself against
this secret desire. However perfect may be his conduct,
that is, his outw,ard and apparent existence, there is still

PUBLIC RELIGION OF THE PRESENT AGE. 268

at the root of his inward being, discord, obscurity, and
bondage, and therefore a want of absolute dignity. Such is
the position even of the purely Moral Man, when regard
ed by the light of Eeligion. How displeasing, then, as
seen by this light, must be the condition of him who
has not even attained to True Morality, but as yet only
follows the impulses of Nature. He too is guided by
the Eternal Law of the Universe; but to him it neither
speaks in his own language nor honours him with speech
at all, but leads him on with dumb compulsion as it
does the plant or the animal ; employs him like an un
reasoning thing, without consulting his own Will in
aught, and in a region where mere mechanism is the
only moving power.

Religion discloses to Man the significance of the one
Eternal Law which, as the Law of Duty, guides the free
and noble, and, as the Law of Nature, governs ignoble
instruments. The Religious Man comprehends this Law,
and feels it living within himself, as the Law of the
Eternal development of the One Life. How each indi
vidual moment of our Earthly Life is comprehended in
that Eternal development of the one original Divine
Life he cannot indeed understand, because the Infinite
has no limit and therefore can never be embraced by
him ; but that every one of these moments does absolutely
lie contained within this development of the One Life
he can directly perceive and clearly recognise. What
was the Law of Duty to the Moral Man, is to him the
inward movement of the One Life directly revealed a,s
Life; what is the Law of Nature to others is to him
the unfolding of the outward and apparently dead sub
stratum of that One Life.

This one clearly recognised Life now becomes thoroughly
established in the Religious Man, reposing upon itself, suffi
cient for itself, and blessed in itself; dwelling there with
unspeakable Love ; with inconceivable rapture bathing his

la

260 LECTURE XVI.

whole being in the original fountain of all Life, and flow
ing forth with him, and inseparable from him, in one eternal
stream. What the Moral Man calls Duty and Law, what
is.this to him ? The most spiritual bloom of Life, his
element in which alone he can breathe. He wills andean
do nothing else than this ; all else is to him misery and
death. To him the commanding " Thou shalt" comes too
late; before it can command he has already resolved, and
cannot resolve otherwise. As all external Law vanishes
before Morality, so before Religion the internal Law also
disappears; the Lawgiver in our breast is silent, for Will,
Desire, Love, and Blessedness, have already superseded the
Law. The Moral Man often finds it difficult to perform his
Duty; the sacrifice of his deepest desires and his most
cherished feelings is demanded of him. He performs it
notwithstanding: it must be done; he subdues his feel
ings, and stifles his agony. The question, Wherefore is
there need of this suffering, and whence arises this
struggle between the desires which have been implanted
in him and the commands of a Law from which he
cannot escape ? this question he dares not permit him
self to entertain ; he must offer himself up with mute
and blind obedience, for only under the condition of such
obedience is the offering genuine. For the Religious
Man this question has been once and for ever solved.
That which thus strives against our Will, and which is
so unwilling to die, is imperfect Life ; which, even be
cause it is Life, struggles for continued existence, but
must cease to be as soon as its place is occupied by a
higher and nobler Life. Those desires which I must
sacrifice/ thinks the Religious Man, are not rny desires;
they are desires which are directed against me and my
higher existence; they are my foes which cannot be de
stroyed too soon. The pain which they cause is not my
pain, but the pain of a nature which has conspired against
me ; it is not the agonies of death, but the pangs of a

PUBLIC RELIGION OF THE PRESENT AGE. 267

new birth which will be glorious beyond all my . ex
pectations.

It would be unworthy of our picture of Religion were
we still specially to repeat and insist that to it there
is no longer anything displeasing and deformed in the
world, but that all things there, without exception, are
to it a source of the purest Blessedness. Whatever ex
ists, as it exists and because it exists, labours in the
service of the Eternal Life, and in the system of this
development so it must be. To desire, wish, or love
anything otherwise than as it is, would be either to
desire no Life at all, or else to desire Life in a less
perfect manifestation.

Religion elevates him who is devoted to her service above
Time as such, above the Transient and the Perishable, and
puts him in immediate possession of Eternit} r . On the
one original Divine Life his eye reposes; there his love is
rooted ; whatever seems to be beyond this one original Life,
is not beyond it but within it, and is merely a temporary
form of its development according to an absolute Law which
likewise lies within itself; he sees all things only in and
through this one original Life, and in every individual
life he sees the whole Infinite Universe of Being. His
view is thus always the view of the Eternal, and what
he sees, he sees as Eternal and in the Eternal : nothing can
truly be which is not, even on that very account, Eternal
Every fear of perishing in death, every effort to discover
an artificial proof of the immortality of the soul, lies far
beneath him. In every moment of his existence he has
immediate possession of the Eternal Life with all its
Blessedness ; and he needs no argument or inference to
prove the truth of that which he possesses in ever-present
consciousness. There is no more striking proof that the
knowledge of the True Religion has hitherto been very
rare among men, and that in particular it is a stranger in
the prevailing systems, than this, that they universally

2G8 LECTURE XVI.

place Eternal Blessedness beyond the grave, and never
for a moment imagine that whoever will, may here, and
at once, be Blessed.

This is the True Religion. What we maintained above,
that this Religion never comes forth in outward
manifestation, nor reveals itself in external results, but
is only the perfection of man s inward being, this has
been thoroughly confirmed by our delineation. The
Religious Man, indeed, does all those things without ex
ception which the Law of Duty enjoins ; but he does
them not as a Religious Man, for he was already bound
to do them, independently of all Religion, as a purely
Moral Man ; as a Religious Man, he does the same
things, but he does them with a nobler, freer inspira
tion. We must, however, necessarily pass through Pure
Morality before we can attain Religion ; for Religion is the
Love of the Divine Life and Will, and he who obeys this
Will reluctantly can never love it. By Morality we are
first trained to obedience ; and from habitual obedience
Love arises as its sweetest fruit and reward.

But how shall our poor perplexed and harassed Human
Race ever attain this Religion, and by its means be brought
into this haven of secure repose ? Some conditions
which must previously be brought about we can easily
indicate. In the first place, the Civil condition of the
State and its internal and external peace must be firmly
established. The empire of Good Manners must have
commenced ; the State must have no longer to struggle
with its own necessities, or to impose them on its Citi
zens ; this is necessary in order that quiet and leisure
may be obtained. According to what we have said in
our previous discourses, all this has already come to pass
by means of Christianity as the fundamental principle
of modern times ; and in that same principle we have the
assurance that this progress will still continue, and be
carried out into farther and yet more perfect results. In

PUBLIC RELIGION OF THE PRESENT AGE. 2G9

this respect Christianity itself, by means of its external
relations, has fashioned and prepared the world on which it
is destined to burst forth with all its inward and essen
tial nobleness ; and our whole view of modern times has
thus acquired a new significance, and the keystone has
been placed on the completed structure of our inquiry.

In this state of order and tranquillity Mankind, or at
least a large portion of them, must necessarily elevate them
selves, in the first place, to Pure Morality. At this point,
the power of the State, and the unconscious influence of
Christianity in its external relations, come to an end. The
State, as we have already seen, can impel its Citizens to
negative Good Manners by means of Legislation and Go
vernment, and to positive Good Manners by means of the
establishment of Equal Rights for all ; and it may thus
remove the most powerful obstacles to the development of
Pure Morality; but it cannot impel them to this Morality
itself, for the source of this lies within themselves, in
their own minds, and in their own free will.

How much less then does it lie within the power of the
State again to raise the great mass of its Citizens, or at
least a large portion of them, from this generally diffused
Morality to the higher dignity of True Religion. Whatever
may be done in future times for the diffusion of this True
Religion by great men whose hearts may be powerfully
animated by its presence, whatever these may do as in
dividuals, the State, as such, must never propose this
purpose to itself; for its efforts would unavoidably prove
abortive, and produce something quite different from the
end desired. Indeed, I may add that no State will pro
pose this purpose to itself, for the maxim which we have
now laid down will one day be universally recognised.

How then shall an impulse arise by which Mankind may
be moved to the acknowledgment and diffusion of True
Religion ? I answer, in the same way that all progress in
Religious Knowledge has hitherto been brought about;

270 LECTURE XVI.

by Individual Men, who, although as yet but partially
and imperfectly, have still by one point or other of
Religion been attracted, animated, and inspired, and
have possessed the gift of communicating their inspir
ation to others. Such, in the beginning of modern times,
were the Reformers : such, in later days, when almost
the whole of Religion was placed in the maintenance
of orthodox systems of Theology, and the inward Reli
gion of the heart was cast forth and neglected, were the
so-called Pietistic Teachers, who gained an unquestionable
victory ; for what is the whole modern Theology, which
would reduce the Bible to the level of its own shallow
and superficial understanding, but a corruption of the
view of the Pietists, retaining the contempt which these
Teachers entertained for the orthodox systems of The
ology, but casting aside the holiness of Feeling by which
they were guided ? And so in our own Age, when it
has somewhat recovered and composed itself from the
manifold errors with which it has been perplexed and
harassed, will Inspired Men arise and bring to it that of
which it stands in need.

We have finished the task which we proposed to
ourselves : we have delineated, briefly and succinctly as
was our purpose, the Characteristics of the Present Age
contemplated from those essential principles which belong
to all Time. There remains nothing further for us to do
but to add a conclusion to the whole. Permit me, for
this purpose, to invite you here once again.

(271 )

LECTUEE XVII.

CONCLUSION.

IN the preceding Lectures we have delineated the Present
Age as a necessary part of the great World-Plan on which
the Earthly Life of our Race is arranged, and have endea
voured to disclose its secret significance ; we have sought
to understand the phenomena of the Present by means of
this Idea, to bring them forth as the necessary results of
the Past, and to predict their immediate consequences in
the Future : and if we have succeeded in this our under
taking, we have then understood our Age. We have been
engaged in these contemplations without thought of our
selves or of our own position. Speculation warns every
inquirer, and with good reason, against this self-forgetful-
ness. To show the justice of this warning in our own case :
Should our view of the Present Age prove to have been
a view taken from the standing-point of this Age itself,
should the eye which has taken this view have been itself
a product of the Age which it has surveyed, then has the
Age borne witness to itself and such testimony must be
set aside ; and so far from having explored its signifi
cance, we have only added to the number of its phenomena
a most superfluous and unproductive one. Whether this
has been our position or not, can only be determined by a
retrospect of our previous inquiry ; and this retrospect can

272 LECTURE XVII.

only be accomplished by placing our inquiry before us as
itself a phenomenon of Time, and indeed of that Age in
which it has occurred, namely, the Present.

But however indispensable it is, in every mental occu
pation, that we should not lose sight of ourselves, it is yet
most difficult to do this, particularly to do it aloud ; that
is, to speak of ourselves. Not indeed that I should find
any serious difficulty in speaking of me, the particular in
dividual who now addresses you. In the Introductory
Lecture, when I first sought to combine and establish this
audience, I spoke without hesitation of myself, what I be
lieve no one has ever taken amiss, and what I do not regret
having spoken ; but now, at the conclusion of my task, I
know not how to utter one word respecting myself which
shall be worthy of utterance. The question is not of me ;
it is not I who have desired to think and to inquire :
had my thought or inquiry been a matter of any moment,
I could have accomplished that without saying aught to
any one on the subject ; but from such self-contemplation
no result for the world could ensue ; for what the Individual
thinks, or does not think, constitutes no event for his Age ;
but it is We, as one company devoted to this purpose,
and borne on to unity of thought in absolute forgetfulness
of our own individual persons, (as we have often before
given outward manifestation of this unity of thought, and
do so now) it is \Ye who have desired to think and to
inquire ; and it is to this we, and by no means to my
self, that I refer when I speak of this mental retrospect of
ourselves, and of the difficulty of accomplishing it aloud
and in public speech. So much in that case strives for
utterance which each of us would more fitly think for him
self, that an incautious man might be misled into touch
ing upon subjects which modesty would rather leave un
touched, and into urging upon the attention considerations
which are offensive to Uncultivated mind, not on their
own account, but because they are spoken on the suppo-

CONCLUSION. 273

sit ion that those to whom they are addressed cannot make
them for themselves. As I have hitherto, I believe,
kept myself free from this sort of eloquence, which
indeed is permitted only to one class to which I do not
belong, I hope I shall continue to avoid it, even to
the end.

I have said that we shall to-day take a retrospect of our
previous inquiry, and of the theory which lias been its
result our theory not mine as I have already explained ;
especially in order that we may be assured that this
theory is not itself a product of the Present Age, the
influence of the Age upon us being hidden from our view.
To this end I maintain, that this theory is assuredly
no product of our own Age if, in the first place, it be not
a product of any Age whatever, but lies beyond all
Time; and also (since in that case it might prove absolutely
empty and without significance, and so disappear in mere
vacuity and nothingness) if, in the second place, it become
the root and principle of living vitality in a New Age.

In the first place, that we may be able to determine
whether our now completed theory does actually lie be
yond all Time, let us inquire what has been the nature of
this theory, considered in its essential elements, and to
what chief department of human thought it has be
longed ? I answer : It was a Religious Theory ; all
our contemplations were Religious contemplations, and
our view of things, and the eye which embraced that
view, were Religious.

According to the thought which, directly or indirectly,
distinctly or obscurely, has animated all our previous
discourses, and, in our last discourse especially, has been
considered on all sides; according, to this thought, I
say, RELIGION consists in regarding and recognising all
Earthly Life as a necessary development of the one,
original, perfectly good and perfectly blessed Divine
Life. Now, it is first of all quite clear that this view

m a

274 LECTURE XVII.

does not consist in the mere perception or contempla
tion of life, or of anything else, and that it cannot arise
from such perception or contemplation. By the most
careful observation of phenomena we can go no further
than to know that so and so is the case, but by no means
to reject or disallow this as mere appearance, and to seek
a higher significance behind it. The Religious mode of
thought can thus never be the result of mere observa
tion of the world, since, on the contrary, this mode of
thought rests on the imperative maxim not to accept
this world and all Earthly Life in it as in itself true and
real existence, but to assume another Higher Existence
superior to the world. This maxim must be developed
in the mind itself, as an essential element originally
implanted there; and no man can ever arrive at this
truth by mere empirical observation, since it entirely
abolishes empirical observation as the highest and de
cisive test of reality. It is clear that this maxim stands
in direct opposition to the principle which we have in
dicated as that which guides the thought of our Age; that
this thought can never attain to it; and that, by means
of the very first supposition of something higher than the
World, we raise ourselves above such an Age and cease to
be its product. In short, not mere observation, but Pure
Thought, in itself and by itself, is the first element of
Religion. In the language of the schools : Metaphysic,
that is, the Super-sensual, is the element of Religion.
From the beginning of the world down to the present
day Religion, whatever shape it ma,y have assumed,
has been Metaphysic ; and he who despises and derides
Metaphysic, that is, everything a priori, either knows
not what he means, or else he despises and derides
Religion.

Are we set free from this limitation and bondage in the
Apparent ? then the next step towards the attainment of
True Religion is our second maxim : To place the foun-

O J-

CONCLUSION. 275

dation of the world neither in Chance, which in other words
is to accept a foundation of the world and yet not to ac
cept it ; nor in blind Necessity, which in other words is
to accept an absolutely inconceivable and dead foundation
of the world, and of all the life in the world ; nor yet
in a living, but evil, capricious, and man-hating Cause,
as Superstition has done at all times in a greater or
less degree ; but in the One, absolutely and unchange
ably good, Divine Existence. We said that our first
maxim, not to accept Apparent Existence in Time as in
itself true and real, but to assume a Higher Existence
beyond it, must be developed within the mind itself;
and even so our second maxim, to regard this Higher
Existence as Life, and as a good and Blessed Life,
must likewise be developed in the mind itself as an in
herent element originally implanted there. At most, we
can only receive help from without by the communication
of such thoughts from others with the invitation to test
them by our own sense of Truth ; by which, if it be but
rightly interrogated, and if the mass of preexisting errors
and prejudices be not too powerful, they will doubtless be
confirmed. There is no logical means by which this insight
may be forced upon man, for even the dullest and rudest
form of mere Egoism is consistent in itself, and he who i
determines with stiff-necked obstinacy to abide there
cannot be compelled to quit it.

In a word, as we have already clearly set forth in our
last Lecture, In the view of Keligion, all the phenomena
of Time, without exception, are regarded as necessary and
progressive developments of the One, Ever-blessed, Original
Divine Life, and hence each individual phenomenon is re
garded as the necessary condition of a higher and more
perfect life in Time which shall arise from it. Now,
and this is to be particularly remarked, this one, essen
tially abiding and unchanging view of Religion, is itself
divided in its form, and assumes a double aspect. Namely,

276 LECTURE XVII.

we may either possess only a general insight into the
fact, that, since all life manifested in Time can be nothing
else than a development of the Divine Life, so also the
particular phenomenon which may be in question is ne
cessarily a development of this Divine Life : ihefact, I
say, that such is the case, without any conception of how
and in what way it is so ; and this form of Religion we
may name the RELIGION OF REASON, which lies beyond all
understanding and all conception, although its clearness
and certainty do not on that account suffer the slightest
abatement : The Religion of Reason, we style it, for it is
the mere acceptance of ike fact, without comprehension
of the manner of the fact. Or, in the second place, we may
understand and conceive how and in what way the phe
nomenon in question may be the development of a Higher
Life ; the more perfect development which is to proceed
from it may present itself to sight, and the phenome
non in question may then be recognised, clearly and
distinctly, as the necessary foundation from which the
actual progression has arisen ; and this latter form of
Religion may be named the RELIGION OF THE UNDER
STANDING. These two forms embrace the whole domain
of Religion ; the Religion of Reason encompassing both
its extremities, while the Religion of the Understanding
occupies the centre. How each individual Human Being
as such, and his particular fortunes, connect themselves with
the Eternal, this, as the lower extremity of the domain of
Religion, cannot be comprehended; and as little, how this
whole present and introductory Life of our Race is related
to the infinite series of Future Life and determined
thereby, as little, I say, can this, as the higher extremity
of the domain of Religion, be comprehended by us ; but
that they are altogether good and necessary for the
Perfect Life, is distinctly apparent to the Religious Man.
On the other hand, the significance of this first Earthly
Life of the Race, considered in itself and apart from all

CONCLUSION. 277

other Life, and as the Life of the Race not individual
Life, this, as the middle sphere of this domain of Reli
gion, may be conceived and has been conceived by us;
and on the same ground, it may be conceived how each
of the necessary Epochs of this Earthly Life is related
to the whole, and what is the particular significance of
each in itself. Here, therefore, lies the domain of the
Religion of the Understanding ; and this domain we
have traversed in our inquiry, putting forward the Epoch
in which we live as its clearest and most intelligible point.
The question, What has been the nature of our inquiry,
is answered. What we have done is this: we have
raised ourselves into the domain of Religion by that way

which is the most easy and accessible to our Ao-e, the

way of Understanding. So surely as our inquiry has
been a Religious inquiry, it has been no product of our
own Age but has transcended all Ages and all Time;
so surely as it has applied itself especially to the domi
nant principle of our own Age, it has raised itself from
the level of this particular Age above all Time. The
greatest obstacle to reflection is when a man no longer
hesitates or stumbles at anything, no longer wonders at
anything, and no longer seeks any explanation of sur
rounding phenomena. Of all the wonders that surround
a man in this condition of indifference, whatever touches
him however slightly because it has a direct influence
on his own personal weal or woe, is that which lies
nearest to him among the events of the Time. But what
cultivated mind has not sometimes at least pondered in
astonishment over those wonderful phenomena, demanded
the meaning of them, and earnestly longed for a solution
of its questionings ? Without allowing ourselves to be
occupied with trifles, which often fall within the domain
of the absolutely unintelligible, or even when they are
intelligible lead to nothing great, we have considered
and characterized the Age broadly and as a whole ; but

278 LECTURE XVII.

so that none of the members of this assembly will be apt
to find anything passed over which specially interests him.
We have characterized it in a rational and religious
frame of mind, regarding all things as necessary parts
of the whole, and as securely leading to nobler and more
perfect results.

Thus there can be no doubt that our inquiry has tran
scended the limitations of Time. But this alone does not
satisfy us. That it is no product, no favourite opinion,
no mere prejudice of our Age, is well: but is it not
perhaps a mere nonentity, a deceptive show, a dream
disappearing in the empty void of Time, and having no
existence in True and Real Time ? We have now to
set forth the principles upon which this second question
must be answered.

To this empty void of Time belongs everything which
is adopted for the purpose of mere pastime, or, what is
the same thing, for the satisfaction of curiosity founded
upon no earnest desire of knowledge. Pastime is but
an empty waste, interposed between times devoted to
serious occupations. At the opening of these Lectures
I undertook nothing more than that I should occupy
your thoughts for a few hours of this winter in a man
ner neither unseemly nor disagreeable : more I could
not promise reckoning on myself alone ; and to promise
even this unconditionally was itself a hazard, for com
munication upon my part presupposed the power of re
ceiving such a communication upon yours, and a definite
communication presupposed a definite degree and form of
this receptive power. If you have taken me altogether at
my own word in this matter, then you may now congratu
late yourselves that you have, in the course of this winter,
got rid of sixteen or seventeen hours of idleness by means
of a new amusement which has at least proved good, pro
fitable, and wholesome ; and against this I have nothing
to say. But in this^case, it is quite certain that these

CONCLUSION. 279

sixteen or seventeen hours have been to you not true
but mere empty and vacant Time.

To True and Real Time belongs everything which
becomes the necessary principle, foundation and cause
of new and hitherto non-existent phenomena in Time ;
for the first characteristic of true Life is to create other
Life from itself. That which by means of these in
quiries might become such a principle was the ruling
tendency and practice of contemplating all things without
exception from the Religious point of view. Now it is
impossible that this principle should have been im
planted within us, for the first time, by means of the
contemplations which have occupied us for a few hours
of this winter. In the first place, we have already re
marked that this principle cannot be communicated to
manfrom without, but must have its root originally within
his own being, and has actually such an inward existence in
all men without exception; and in the second place, we
have not been able to avail ourselves of nearly the whole
of the means which might have been employed to awaken
and call forth this principle. The whole artificial train
ing of the school, the systematic rise and overthrow of
each objection, the gradual upturning of every branch of
error by the roots; further, the profound and lengthened
course of study, and the artificial development of the
power of thought, which are presupposed in these things;
all these could not here be employed ; and thus, the
Religious Sense could not here be implanted, nor even
for the first time awakened and called forth. It was
presupposed that this Religious Sense had already made
its appearance, and manifested its genial and invigorat
ing influence in all the minds who have taken part in
our inquiries, and only slumbered under the concealment
of the numerous and incessant occupations and distrac
tions of life and its every-day occurrences. To this sense,
asleep but not dead, we were able confidently to appeal,

280 LECTURE XVII.

just as each of you might have done for himself, had he
had time and aptitude for meditation on matters of this
description. It became my business to apply a portion of
my time to the production and adjustment of such a dis
course as each of you might have addressed to himself, and
which he must actually address to himself at last, testing
it by his own sense of Truth, if it is really to be addressed
to him at all. At most, I could thus only lend some assist
ance to my hearers, by removing the opposition between
their spiritual condition at the time when the Religious
Sense first developed itself within them, and that in which
they now stand ; by separating distinctly and forcibly this
Religious Sense itself, which is at all times essentially one
and the same, from the casual and diverse limitations
which surrounded its first development, and planting it,
beyond these limitations, into their present state of mental
culture.

There is, in the first place, one good criterion by which
we may arrive at a preliminary solution at least of the
question we have proposed, Whether the considerations
which we have here set forth have been mere empty
verbiage, or intellectual conceits, serviceable at most to
pass away an idle hour? or whether they have come
home to something already living within ourselves ?
this, namely, if we have been conscious that our own
long - cherished presentiments and feelings have here
been distinctly spoken forth, and that we ourselves had
previously thought of the matter almost exactly as it
has been here expounded ; then we may be sure that
something already living within us has been touched.
This, I say, is but a preliminary and even but a par
tially decisive criterion. It is indecisive on the following
account : one man may cordially assent to it in whom
only a fugitive scientific or aesthetic pleasure has been
excited, which indeed may manifest itself in a more con
sistent view of the world, or in more inspired productions

CONCLUSION. 281

of Art, but can never enter into the inmost recesses
of the mind : another man may gainsay it, because he
goes to its consideration full of scientific prejudices, who
does nevertheless give his assent to it at bottom, and
he may gainsay it the more vehemently the more he is
irritated and chagrined by the secret harmony which
reigns between his own mind and that which, according
to his theory, must be error ; but, his whole character
and mode of thinking being penetrated with this har
mony, his conduct stands in opposition to his theory,
until at last this theory itself, no longer receiving any
nourishment from the heart, fades and falls away like
withered leaves.

But the sure and perfectly decisive criterion whether
something already living within us has here been touched,
and that so powerfully that it can never again fall back
into slumber, for in that case the present awakening
would again need a new revival which could never be
anticipated with certainty, the present being worthless
but for the future awakening, without which it would
disappear in mere empty Time; the sure and perfectly
decisive criterion of this question, I say, is this: Whether
the Life which has thus been called forth do ceaselessly
extend itself, and become the source and foundation of
New Life.

In our last lecture, we have clearly shown that True
Religion does not manifest itself outwardly, and does not
impel man to any course of external conduct which he
would not otherwise have adopted, but that it only com
pletes his true Inward Being and dignity. It is neither an
action, nor an incentive to action, but insight : it is
LIGHT, and the One True Light, which bears within it
all Life and all the forms of Life, and pervades their
innermost substance. Once arisen, this Light flows on
spontaneously for ever, spreading itself forth without term
or limit ; and it is as idle to bid it shine as it would be

n a

282 LECTUHE XVII.

to address such a command to the material sun when
it stands in the noon-day heavens. It does this without
our bidding; if it shine not, then it has nob arisen. At
its uprising darkness, and the brood of spectres and
phantasms which are born of darkness, vanish of them
selves. It is in vain to say to darkness, Let there
be Light! no Light can come forth from it, for there
is none within it. As vain is it to say to man lost in
the Transitory and Perishable, Raise thine eyes to the
Eternal ! he has no eye for the Eternal; his eye is it
self transitory and perishable, and reflects only the Transi
tory and Perishable. But let the Light itself burst forth,
then the darkness becomes visible, retires, and draws off
like shadows across the field. The darkness is the
thoughtlessness, the frivolity, the fickleness of men.
Where the Light of Religion has arisen, there is no
longer need to warn men against these things, or to
struggle against them ; they have already vanished, and
their place is no longer known. Are they still there ?
then the Light of Religion has assuredly not arisen, and
all warning and exhortation is in vain.

Thus, the proposed criterion being applied in the first
place negatively, the answer to the question, Whether
these contemplations in which w r e have been engaged have
belonged to vacant or to True Time 1 must depend upon
this, Whether thoughtlessness, frivolity, and fickleness,
have disappeared from our Life, and continue to disappear
therefrom more and more ?

Pure thoughtlessness, that is, mute and blind sur
render of ourselves to the stream of phenomena, without
even entertaining the thought of any unity or foundation
therein, is mere Animalism, and thereby possesses a
certain conformity to Nature which we must allow to
have its value. It is seldom that man is so fortunate
as to possess it. Those questionings after unity still
present themselves and demand their reply. He who

CONCLUSION. 283

cannot enter upon the inquiry, has no alternative but to
harden himself against this impulse, and assume, of his
own will, as his true wisdom and the ruling maxim of
his life, that absolute thoughtlessness which Nature has
denied him as a natural condition. There is no lack
of distinguished appellations under which this maxim
may be entertained : Common Sense of Mankind, Scep
ticism, Struggle against Fanaticism and Superstition, &c.
According to these doctrines, the animal is the true
Philosopher and Sage; folly belongs to man, and con
sists in demanding a foundation and a reason of the
visible. This folly the wise man subdues as well as he
can, and thus by art brings himself back to the condition
of the beast. But should these maxims, with all their
distinguished appellations, prove unable to subdue this
impulse which demands a secure foundation for our
knowledge, then other means are, sought to put it to
silence. We pretend to rally ourselves on making this
effort, and to laugh at ourselves for indulging in this
folly, while it is in truth the effort itself which we try
to make ridiculous, in order that we may thereby
take revenge upon ourselves for having suffered this
impulse to surprise and lay hold of us, and also in
order that others may not believe us capable of such
weakness. We fly from no society more willingly than
from our own ; and that we may never be left alone with
ourselves we endeavour to fill up with mere amusement
every portion of time unemployed by those occupations
which already keep us from ourselves. This condition
is unnatural. Children may by nature desire play be
cause their powers are not yet ripe for earnest employ
ment : but when grown men can do nothing but play,
then this is not for the sake of play itself, but because
there is something else which they would willingly forget.
Does an earnest thought come in thy way, which thou
Avouldst not entertain ? Let it alone and pursue the

284 LECTURE XVII.

path thou hast begun ! This, however, thou doest not,
but turnest thyself against it, and summonest up all the
resources of thy wit to cover it with ridicule. Where
fore give thyself this trouble? For this cause: thou
canst not bear the presence of this thought in its ori
ginal and earnest form ; thou hast no rest till thou hast
clothed it in another and to thee more acceptable shape.
Fickleness and frivolity are unerring signs, and the
more so the greater their degree, that there is some
thing gnawing within the heart from which we would
willingly escape ; and just upon that account they are
proofs which cannot be mistaken that the noble nature
which they disguise is not wholly dead. He who can cast
a searching glance into such souls must feel the deepest
commiseration for their state, and for the atmosphere of
lies in which they live. They would make all men believe
that they are in the highest degree happy and contented,
seeking from others the confirmation of that which they
themselves know to be false, and with a most sorrowful
laughter at their own efforts making themselves appear
even worse than they really are.

Have these follies wholly disappeared from our minds ?
do we no longer shun earnest reflection, but now begin to
love it above all things else ? then our contemplations
have assuredly belonged not to vacant but to True Time.

Has the Light of Religion arisen within us? then it not
only dispels the previous darkness, but it has also had a
true and real existence within us before it could dispel
the darkness; now it spreads itself forth until it em
braces our whole world, and thus becomes the source
of New Life. In the beginning of these lectures we have
traced everything great and noble in man to this, that
he lose his own personal existence in the Life of the
Race ; devote his own Life to the purposes of the Race ;
labour, endure, suffer, and if need be die, as a sacrifice
to the Race. In this view it was always deeds, always

CONCLUSION. 285

that which could manifest itself in outward and visible ap
pearance, to which we looked. In this way it was necessary
for us to open our communication with the Age. Now,
ennobled by our progress from this point of view, as I
foretold, we use this language no longer. The one thing
truly noble in man, the highest form of the one Idea which
has become clear within him, is Religion ; but Religion
is nothing external, it never clothes itself in any outward
manifestation ; but it completes the Inward Life of Man,
it is Spiritual Light and Truth. The true course of action
is now disclosed of itself, for Truth cannot act otherwise
than according to Truth; but this true course of action is
no longer a sacrifice, no longer demands suffering and
endurance, but is itself the manifestation and effluence of
the highest inward Blessedness. He who, although with
reluctance and in conflict with internal darkness, yet acts
according to Truth, let him be admired and let his heroism
be extolled : he upon whom this Inward Light has arisen
has outgrown our admiration and our praise ; there is no
longer any doubt, opposition or contradiction in his Being,
but all is the one, clear, ever-flowing Fountain of Truth.

Formerly we expressed ourselves in the following lan
guage: As when the breath of Spring enlivens the air,
the strong and fixed ice, which but a moment before
imprisoned each atom within itself, and shut up each
neighbouring atom in similar isolation, now no longer
maintains its rigid bondage, but flows forth in one free,
animated, and glowing flood; so does the Spirit- World ever
flow at the breath of Love, and is and abides in eternal
communion with the mighty Whole. Let us now add :
This atmosphere of the Spirit- World, its creating and
combining element, is LIGHT this originally : Heat, if it
do not again evaporate, but bear within itself an element of
endurance, is but the first manifestation of this Light. In
the darkness of mere earthly vision, all things stand divided
from each other; each individual thing isolated by means of

286 LECTURE XVII.

the cold and unillumined matter in which it is embraced.
But in this darkness there is no unity. The Light of
Religion arises ! and all things burst forth and rush to
wards each other in reciprocal order and dependence, and
float on together, as a united whole, in the One, Eternal,
and All-embracing flood of Light.

This Light is mild, gently refreshing, and wholesome to
the eye. In the twilight of mere earthly vision the dim
shapes which crowd in confusion around us are feared and
therefore hated. In the Light of Religion all things are
pleasing and shed around them calmness and peace. In it
all unlovely shapes disappear, all things float in the glow
ing ether of Love. Not that man submits himself to
the law of a high and unchangeable Fate ; in Religion
there is no Fate, but only Wisdom and Goodness, to which
man is not compelled to submit himself, but which em
brace him with Infinite Love. In these contemplations
in which we have been engaged, this joyful and friendly
view ought to have spread itself over our own Age, and
over the whole Earthly Life of our Race. The more
closely this mild influence has embraced us, the deeper it
has penetrated all our thoughts and aspirations, in a
word, the more we have attained to peace with the whole
world, and joyful sympathy with every form of existence,
the more sure may we be, and the more confidently may
we affirm, that our contemplations have belonged not to
vacant, but to True Time.

This Light spreads itself forth by its own native
energy, and widens the sphere of its influence, until at
last it embraces our whole world. As when the earthly
light breaks forth in one point, the shadows retire, the
limits of day and night are separated, and darkness
itself becomes visible though not the particular objects
which it veils ; so is it with the Light of Religion. In
one sphere, in the sphere of our Earthly Life, this
Light ought already to have arisen upon us. Has

CONCLUSION. 287

it truly arisen upon us ? then do we already know,
firmly and surely, that also beyond this sphere Wisdom
and Goodness reign, because nothing else can possibly
attain dominion ; but we do not understand how they
rule there, nor what are the purposes which they there
unfold. Penetrated with firm and immovable conviction
and insight with respect to the fact, there remains to us
beyond this sphere, and with reference to the manner of
the fact, only Faith. The one sphere is illumined by clear
and intelligible Light ; the farther region is also sur
rounded by Light, but obscurity still rests upon the super-
sensual objects which it contains. But this Light, thus
intelligible and clear in itself, does not remain shut up in
its original limits, but, as its own brightness increases,
it lays hold of the nearest surrounding phenomena, and
from these again proceeds to those beyond ; the sphere
of the Religion of the Understanding is extended, and
embraces one portion after another of the realm of Faith.
If, therefore, we shall gradually attain to a clearer and
clearer understanding of that one thing which alone is
worth understanding, the plans of Divine Wisdom and
Goodness then is this a certain proof that our contem
plations have belonged not to vacant, but to True Time.

In one word, only our future growth in inward Peace
and Blessedness, as well as in inward Understanding, can
furnish the proof that the doctrine which has been here
set forth is True, has been truly accepted by us, and has
attained an actual Life within us.

You see that this proof does not show itself outwardly ;
that no one of us can answer for the other, but each only
for himself and from his own soul ; and indeed that each
can do this best when he answers only within his own soul.
You see that in no case can these questions be answered
to-day or to-morrow, but that the answer must be deferred
for a quite indefinite period of time. You see that here
to-day, standing at the conclusion of our labours, we yet

288 LECTURE XVII.

cannot know whether we Lave accomplished something
or nothing ; and that upon this subject we can only
appeal to the consciousness of our honest intention, if
we are able to lay claim to such an intention, and must
pass over from the^region of Understanding to that of
Faith and Hope.

And suppose that we could answer these questions, and
answer them in accordance with our own wishes ; what,
even in that case, were this assembly in comparison with
the populous city in which we stand ? and what were this
city in comparison with the whole realm of culture ? a
drop of water, perhaps, in a mighty stream. Would not
this drop of water, animated by a new Life-element, if
indeed it were really so animated, would it not mingle
with the stream, and disappear in it, so that scarcely a
single trace of the superadded element should remain ?
Here again we have nothing left us but the Hope that if
it be Truth which we have here announced, and if it have
assumed a form intelligible to our Age, this same Truth,
in the same form, though without our knowledge, shall
also, elsewhere and through other organs, make itself mani
fest to the Age ; so that many drops in this great stream
may be interpenetrated by the same Life-element, and
gradually combining, at last communicate their mutual
vitality to the whole.

Let us cherish this Hope, and with this joyful anticipa
tion before us, let us part. Farewell !

THE WAY

TOWARDS

THE BLESSED LIFE

OR

THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION

LECTURES

DELIVERED AT BERLIN
1806.

o a

( 291 )

CONTENTS.

LECTURE I.

Life is Love ; and hence Life and Blessedness are in themselves one and
the same. Distinction of the True Life from mere Apparent Life.
Life and Being are also one and the same. The True Being is for
ever at one with itself and unchangeable ; the Apparent, on the con
trary, is changeable and transitory. The True Life loves this One
Being, or God ; the Apparent loves the Transitory, or the World.
This Apparent Life itself exists, and is maintained in Existence,
only by aspiration towards the Eternal ; this aspiration can never be
satisfied in the mere Apparent Life, and hence this Life is Unblessed ;
the Love of the True Life, on the contrary, is continually satisfied,
and hence this Life is Blessed. The element of True Life is Thought,

LECTURE II.

The present subject is at bottom Metaphysic, and more especially Onto
logy ; and this is to be here set forth in a popular way. Refutation
of the objections of the impossibility and unadvisableness of such an
exposition, by the necessity there is for attempting it, by investi
gation of the peculiar nature of the popular discourse in opposition to
the scientific, and by the practical proof that since the introduction
of Christianity this undertaking has at all times been actually accom
plished. Great hindrances which exist in our own day to the commu
nication of such Knowledge, partly because its strictly determinate
form is opposed both to the propensity towards arbitrary opinion and
to the mere want of opinion which calls itself scepticism ; partly
because its substance seems strange and monstrously paradoxical ;
and finally, because unprejudiced persons are led astray by the objec
tions urged by perverse fanaticism. Genetic exposition of this species
of fanaticism. The accusation of Mysticism which may be expected
from these fanatics against our doctrine noticed. The true object of
this and similar accusations.

292 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

LECTURE III.

Solution of the problem how since Life must be an organic whole a part
of this necessary Life may yet be wanting in Actual Life, as is the case,
according to what we have held above, in the Apparent Life, by the
remark that the Spiritual Life develops itself in Reality only gradually
and, as it were, by stages ; illustrated by the striking example that
the great masses of mankind refer the thought of outward objects to
sensible perception of such objects, and know no better than that all
our Knowledge is founded on experience. What, in opposition to thia
thought of outward objects, which after all is not founded on percep
tion, is true and proper Thought ; and how this is distinguished in
its Form from mere Opinion, with which, in reference to its sphere
of activity, it coincides.

Actual application of this Thought to the highest elements of Knowledge,
from which we have these results: Being, in itself, (Seyri) neither
has arisen, nor has anything in it arisen, but it is absolutely One and
Simple in its Essence ; from it we have to distinguish its Ex-istence
(Daseyn) which is necessarily Consciousness of Being. This Con
sciousness, being also necessarily Self-consciousness, cannot, either in
its essence or in the special determinations of its actual existence, be
genetically deduced from Being (Seyri) itself; although it may be
understood generally that this its actual determinate Ex-istence is
essentially one with the essential Nature of Being.

LECTURE IV.

Exposition of what is essential to the Blessed Life, and what is only condi
tionally necessary. The answer to the question : " How, since Being
(Seyn] ex-ists as it is in itself, namely as One, yet in this its Ex-istence
(Daseyn) or Consciousness, Multiplicity may nevertheless find place ?"
only conditionally necessary. Answer to the question, The "as,
or characterization by means of opposition, which arises from the dis
tinction that takes place only in Ex-istence, is an absolute opposition
and the principle of all other division. This "as," or act of charac
terization, presupposes an abiding Being that is characterized, whereby
that which in itself is the inward Divine Life is changed into a deter
minate World. This World is characterized or formed by means of
this "as/ 1 Reflexion which is absolutely free and independent,
without any end or limit to the process.

LECTURE V.

Principle of a new division in Knowledge, not proceeding immediately on
the Object, but only on the Reflexion of the Object, and hence giving
only different views of the One abiding World ; which latter division

CONTENTS. 293

is nevertheless intimately connected with the first, and interpenetrated
by it. This division, and hence the diverse views of the World which
result from it, are five-fold. The first and lowest, being that of the
prevalent Philosophy, in which reality is attributed to the World of
Sense, or Nature. The second, in which reality is placed in a Law of
Order in the Existing World addressed to Freedom ; the stand-point
of Objective Legality, or of the Categorical Imperative. The third,
which places reality in a new Creative Law addressed to Freedom, pro
ducing a New World within the Existing World ; the stand-point of
the Higher Morality. The fourth, which places reality in God alone
and in His Kx-istence ; the stand-point of Religion. The fifth, which
clearly discerns the Manifold in its outgoings from the One Reality,
the stand-point of Science. The True Religious Life, however, is
not possible as a mere view, but exists only in union with an Actual
Divine Life, and without this union the mere view is empty Fanaticism,

LECTURE VI.

Proof of our previous assertion, that this Doctrine is likewise the Doctrine
of pure Christianity, as contained in the writings of the Apostle John.
Reasons why we especially appeal to this Evangelist. Our hermeneu-
tical principle. In John we have to distinguish that which is true, ab
solutely and in itself, from that which is true only from his temporary
point of view. The first is contained in the Introduction to his Gospel,
up to verse 5. Estimate of this Introduction, not as the unauthorita-
tive opinion of the Evangelist, but as the immediate doctrine of Jesus.
Exposition of it. The view that possesses a mere temporary validity is
the, not metaphysical but merely historical, proposition that the Divine
Existence, in its original purity and without any individual limitation,
has manifested itself in Jesus of Nazareth. Explanation of the dif
ference of these two views, and of their union, likewise and expressly
according to the Christian Doctrine. Estimate of this historical dogma.
Comprehension of the substance of the whole Gospel from this point
of view, in an answer to the questions: What does Jesus teach
respecting himself and his relation to God ] and what respecting
his followers and their relation to him ?

APPENDIX TO LECTURE VI.

Farther explanation of the distinction drawn in the preceding lecture be
tween the Historical and Metaphysical, in relation to the fundamental
dogma of Christianity.

LECTURE VII.

More thorough delineation of the mere Apparent Life from its fundamen
tal principle. A complete exposition of all the possible modes of
man s Enjoyment of himself and of the World is requisite for the do-

294 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

monstration of the Blessedness of the Religious Life. Of these there
are five, the five modes of viewing the World, already enumerated,
being also so many modes of its Enjoyment ; of which, in consequence
of the exclusion of the Scientific stand-point, four only come under
consideration here. Enjoyment in any form, as the satisfaction of
Love, is founded on Love; Love, however, is the Affection of Being.
Sensuous Enjoyment, and the Affections which are produced by means
of fancy, in the first stand-point. The Affection of Reality in the
second stand-point, viz. Law, is a commandment, from which proceeds
a judgment, which in itself would be disinterested, but which, being
associated with the interest of man in his own personality, is changed
into the mere negation of self-contempt. This mode of thought an
nuls all Love in man, but even on that account it exalts him above
all want. Stoicism, as mere Apathy, in relation to Happiness and
Blessedness.

LECTURE VIII.

More profound exposition of our Doctrine of Being. Everything that
arises from mere Ex-istence, as such, comprehended under the name
of Form. In Reality, Being is absolutely inseparable from Form, and
the Existence of the latter is itself founded in the inward necessity of
the Divine Nature. Application of this principle to the first portion
of Form, Infinity, Application of it to the second portion of Form,
the five-fold division previously set forth. This gives a free and in
dependent Ego as the organic central-point of all Form. Exposition
of the nature of Freedom. Affection of the Ego for its personal inde
pendence, which necessarily disappears as soon as the individual
stand-points of mere possible Freedom are destroyed by perfect Free
dom ; and thus again the presence, or absence of this Love of Self
gives us two completely opposite modes of viewing and enjoying the
World. From the former arises, in the first place, the impulse towards
Sensuous Enjoyment, as the Love of a Self, determined in a particular
way by means of outward objects ; and, in the second place, from the
stand-point of Legality, the Love of mere formal Freedom after the
renunciation of the Love of objective self-determination. Charac
terization of the Love from which a Categorical Imperative arises.
Through the annihilation of that Love of Self the Will of the Ego is
brought into harmony with the Will of God ; and there arises there
from, in the first place, the stand-point, previously described as the
third, of the Higher Morality. Relation of this mode of thought to
outward circumstances, particularly in contrast with the superstition
of sensuous desire.

LECTURE IX.

The New World which the Higher Morality creates within the World of
Sense is the immediate Life of God himself in Time ; it can only be

CONTENTS. 295-

felt in immediate consciousness, and can only be characterized in
general by the distinctive mark that each of its Forms is a source of
pleasure solely on its own account, and not as a means towards any
other end. Illustrations by the examples of Beauty, of Science, &c.,
and by the phenomena presented by a natural Genius for these. This
Life nevertheless strives after an outward result ; and so long as the
desire for this result is still mixed up with the joy arising from the
deed itself, even the Higher Morality is not exempt from the possi
bility of pain. Separation of these by the stand-point of Religion.
Foundation of Individuality. Each Individual has his own special
portion in the Divine Life. The first fundamental Law of Morality
and of the Blessed Life : that each should devote himself wholly to
this portion. General external characterization of the Moral-Religious
Will, in so far as this comes forth from its inward Life into outward
Manifestation.

LECTRUE X.

Comprehensive view of the whole subject from its deepest stand-point.
Being, which is projected forth from itself in the form of the inde
pendent Ego as the necessary Form of Reflexion, is, beyond all Re
flexion, united with Form by Love alone. This Love is" the creator of
the abstract conception of God ; is the source of all certainty ; is
that which, in Life, embraces the Absolute, immediately and without
modification by Conception; is that by which Reflexion, which in
its Form contains only the possibility of Infinity, is extended into an
Actual Infinity ; finally, is the source of Science. I n living and actual
Reflexion this Love manifests itself immediately in the phenomenon
of Moral Action. Characterization of the Philanthropy of the Moral-
Religious Man. Delineation of his Blessedness.

LECTURE XI.

General application of the subject. Hindrances to a thorough communi
cation between the speaker and hearer : the want of thorough devo
tion of mind ; so-called Scepticism ; the surrounding influences of
the Age. Deeper characterization of these influences by the principle
of the mutual acceptation of all men as miserable sinners (Modern
Humanity.) How the good and upright man] may rise superior to
these influences.

( 297 )

LECTURE I.

THE TRUE LIFE AND THE APPARENT LIFE.

THE Lectures which I now commence have been an
nounced under the title of " The Way towards the Blessed
Life." Following the common and customary view, which
no one can rectify unless he first accommodate himself to
it, I could not avoid thus expressing myself; although,
according to the true view of the matter, the expression
" Blessed Life," has in it something superfluous. To wit :
Life is necessarily blessed, for it is Blessedness ; the thought
of an wnblessed life, on the other hand, carries with it
a contradiction. Death alone is unblessed. Thus, had
I expressed myself with strict precision, I should have
named my proposed lectures " The Way towards Life, or
the Doctrine of Life " or, viewing the idea on the other
side, " The Way towards Blessedness, or the Doctrine of
Blessedness." That, nevertheless, not nearly all that
seems to live is blessed, arises from this that what is
unblessed does not really and truly live, but, for the most
part, is sunk in Death and Nothingness.

Life is itself Blessedness, I said. It cannot be other
wise ; for Life is Love, and the whole form and power of
Life consist in Love and spring from Love. In this I
have given utterance to one of the most profound axioms
of knowledge; which nevertheless, in my opinion, may at

p a

298 LECTURE T.

once be made clear and evident to every one, by means of
really earnest and sustained attention. Love divides that
which in itself is dead as it were into a two-fold being,
holding it up before its own contemplation ; creating
thereby an Ego or Self, which beholds and is cognizant
of itself, and in this personality lies the root of all Life.
Love again reunites and intimately binds together this
divided personality, which without Love would regard
itself coldly and without interest. This latter unity, with
a duality which is not thereby destroyed but eternally re
mains subsistent, is Life itself; as every one who strictly
considers these ideas and combines them together must at
once distinctly perceive. Further, Love is satisfaction
with itself, joy in itself, enjoyment of itself, and there
fore Blessedness; and thus it is clear that Life, Love, and
Blessedness, are absolutely one and the same.

I said further, that not everything which seems to be
living does really and truly live. It follows that, in my
opinion, Life may be regarded from a double point of view,
and is so regarded by me ; that is, partly as regards Truth,
and partly as regards Appearance. Now it is clear, be
fore all things, that this latter merely Apparent Life could
never even become apparent, but must remain wholly and
entirely non-existent, were it not, in some way or other,
supported and maintained by the True Life and, since
nothing has a real existence but Life, did not the True Life,
in some way or other, enter into the Apparent Life and be
commingled with it. There can be no real Death, and no
real Unblessedness ; for, were we to admit this, we should
thereby attribute to them an existence ; while it is only the
True Being and Life that can have existence. Hence all
incomplete existence is but an admixture of the dead with
the living. In what way this admixture generally takes
place, and what, even in the lowest grades of life, is the
indestructible representative of the True Life, we shall be
times declare. It is further to be remarked, that Love

THE TRUE LIFE AND THE APPARENT LIFE. 299

is the actual seat and central-point even of this merely
Apparent Life. Understand me thus : the Apparent can
shape itself into manifold, infinitely varied, forms ; as we
shall soon perceive more clearly. These various forms of
the Apparent Life have all a common life, if we use the
language of Appearance ; or, they all appear to have a
common life, if we use the language of Truth. But if
again the question should arise : By what is this com
mon life distinguished in its various forms ; and what is
it that gives to each individual the peculiar character of
his particular life? I answer: It is the love of this
particular and individual life. Show me what thou truly
lovest, what thou seekest and strivest for with thy whole
heart when thou wouldst attain to true enjoyment of thy
self, and thou hast thereby shown me thy Life. What
thou lovest, in that thou livest. This very Love is thy
Life, the root, the seat, the central-point of thy being.
All other emotions within thee have life only in so far as
they tend towards this one central-point. That to many
men it may be no easy matter to answer such a question,
since they do not even know what they love, proves only
that they do not in reality love anything ; and, just on
that account, do not live because they do not love.

So much, in general, as to the identity of Life, Love, and
Blessedness. Now for the strict discrimination of the True
Life from the mere Apparent Life.

Being, I say again, Being and Life are one and the
same. Life alone can possess independent existence, of it
self and through itself; and, on the other hand, Life, so
surely as it is Life, bears with it such an existence. It is
usual for men to conceive of Absolute Being as something
fixed, rigid and dead ; philosophers themselves, almost
without exception, have so conceived of it, even while they
declared it to be Absolute. This arises onlyfrom the thinker
himself bringing to the contemplation of Being not a living
but a mere dead conception. Not in Being, as it is in and

300 LECTURE I.

for itself, is there Death; but only in the deadly gaze of the
dead beholder. That in this error is to be found the origi
nal source of all other errors, and that through it the world
of truth and the whole spiritual universe is for ever shut
, we have proved in another place, at least to those
who were capable of accepting the proof; here, the mere
historical statement of the principle must be sufficient.

On the other hand, as Being and Life are one and the
same, so are Death and Nothingness one and the same. But
there is no real Death and no real Nothingness, as we have
already said. There is, however, an Apparent Life, and
this is the mixture of life and death, of being and nothing
ness. Hence it follows, that the Apparent, so far as regards
that in it which makes it mere Appearance, and which is
opposed to the True Being and Life, is mere Death and
Nothingness.

Further : Being is throughout simple, not manifold ;
there are not many beings, but only One Being. This prin
ciple, like the former, contains an idea which is generally
misunderstood, or even wholly unknown, but of the evident
truth of which any one may convince himself, if he will
only give his earnest attention to the subject for a single
moment. We have here neither time nor intention to un
dertake, with our present audience, those preparatory and
initiative steps which the mass of men need in order to
render them capable of such earnest reflection.

We shall here bring forward and employ only the results
of those premises ; and these results will recommend them
selves to your natural sense of truth without need of argu
ment. With regard to the profounder premises, we must
content ourselves with stating them clearly and distinctly,
and so securing them against all misconception. Thus, with
reference to the principle we have last adduced, our mean
ing is the following: Being alone is ; nothing else is ; not,
in particular, a something which is not Being, but which lies
outside of all Being; an assumption, this latter, which, to

THE TRUE LIFE AND THE APPARENT LIFE. 301

every one who understands our words, must appear a mani
fest absurdity, but which nevertheless lies, dim and unre
cognised, at the bottom of the common notion of Being.
According to this common notion, something which in and
through itself neither is nor can be, receives from without
a superadded existence, which thus is an existence of no
thing ; and from the union of these two absurdities, all
truth and reality arise. This common notion is contradicted
by the principle we have laid down : Being alone is, i.e.
that only which is by and through itself is. We say fur
ther : This Being is simple, homogeneous, and immutable ; x
there is in it neither beginning nor ending, no variation
or change of form, but it is always and for ever the same
unalterable, and persistent Being.

The truth of this proposition may be briefly shown thus :
Whatever is, in and through itself, that indeed is, and is
perfect : once for all existing, without the possibility of
either abatement or increase.

And thus we have opened the way towards an insight in
to the characteristic distinction between the True Life,
which is one with Being ; and the mere Apparent Life,
which, in so far as it is mere appearance, is one with No
thingness. Being is simple, unchangeable, ever the same ;
therefore the True Life is also simple, unchangeable, ever the
same. Appearance is a ceaseless change, a continual float
ing between birth and decay ; therefore the mere Apparent
Life is also a ceaseless change, ever floating between
birth and decay, hurried along through never-ending alter
nations. The central-point of all Life is Love. The True
Life loves the One, Unchangeable, and Eternal; the mere
Apparent Life attempts to love the Transitory and Perish
able, were that capable of being loved, or could such
love uphold itself in being.

That object of the Love of the True Life is what \
we mean by the name God, or at least ought to mean
by that name ; the object of the Love of the mere

302 LECTURE I.

ApparentLife the transitory and perishable is that which
we recognise as the World, and which we so name.
The True Life thus lives in God, and loves God; the
mere Apparent Life lives in the World, and attempts
to love the World. It matters not on what particular
side it approaches the world and comprehends it ; that
which the common view terms moral depravity, sin,
crime, and the like, may indeed be more hurtful and
destructive to human society than many other things
which this common view permits or even considers to be
praiseworthy ; but, before the eye of Truth, all Life which
fixes its love on the Temporary and Accidental, and seeks
its enjoyment in any object other than the Eternal and
Unchangeable, for that very reason, and merely on account
of thus seeking its enjoyment in something else, is in
like manner vain, miserable, and unblessed.

The True Life lives in the Unchangeable ; it is thus cap
able neither of abatement nor of increase, just as little as
the Unchangeable itself, in which it lives, is capable of such
abatement or increase. In each moment of Time it is per
fect, the highest possible Life ; and throughout Eternity
it necessarily remains what it is in each moment of Time.
The Apparent Life lives only in the Transitory and Perish
able, and therefore never remains the same in any two suc
cessive moments ; each succeeding moment consumes and
obliterates the preceding; and thus the Apparent Life
becomes a continuous Death, and lives only in dying and
in Death.

We have said that the True Life is in itself blessed ; the
Apparent Life necessarily miserable and unblessed. The
possibility of all pleasure, joy, blessedness, or by whatever
word we may express the general consciousness of Well-
being, is founded upon love, effort, impulse. To be united
with the beloved object,- and molten into its very essence,/
is Blessedness ; to be divided from it, cast out from it,
while yet we cannot cease to turn towards it with longing
aspiration, is Unblessedness.

THE TRUE LIFE AND THE APPARENT LIFE. 303

The following is the essential relation of the Apparent,
or of the Actual and Finite, to Absolute Being, or to
the Infinite and Eternal. That which we have already
indicated as the element which must support arid main
tain the Apparent, and without which it could not
attain even the semblance of Existence, and which we
promised soon to characterize more distinctl} r , is the
aspiration towards the Eternal. This impulse to be united
with the Imperishable and transfused therein, is the
primitive root of all Finite Existence ; and in no branch
of this existence can that impulse be wholly destroyed,
unless that branch were to sink into utter nothingness.
Beyond this aspiration upon which all Finite Existence
rests, and by means of it, this existence either attains
the True Life, or does not attain it. Where it does
attain it, this secret aspiration becomes distinct and intel
ligible as Love of the Eternal : we learn what it is that
we desire, love, and need. This want may be satisfied
constantly and under every condition ; the Eternal sur
rounds us at all times, offers itself incessantly to our
regards ; we have nothing more to do than to lay hold
of it. But, once attained, it can never again be lost.
He who lives the True Life has attained it, and now
possesses it evermore, whole, undivided, in all its full
ness, in every moment of his existence ; and is therefore
blessed in this union with the object of his Love, pen
etrated with a firm, immovable conviction that he shall
thus enjoy it throughout Eternity, and thereby secured
against all doubt, anxiety, or fear. Where the True
Life is not attained, that aspiration is not felt the less, but
it is not understood. Happy, contented, satisfied with their
condition, all men would willingly be ; but wherein they
shall find this happiness they know not ; what it is that
they really love and strive after they do not understand.
In -that which comes into immediate contact with their
senses, and offers itself to their enjoyment, in the World,

304 LECTURE I.

they think it must be found ; because to that spiritual
condition in which they now find themselves there is
really nothing else existing but the World. Ardently
they betake themselves to this chase after happiness,
eagerly appropriating, and devoting themselves to, the
first best object that pleases them and promises to satisfy
their desires. But as soon as such an one returns into him
self, and asks, " Am I now happy ? " he is loudly answered
from the depths of his own soul, " no, thou art as empty
and necessitous as before." They now imagine that
they have been mistaken in their choice of an object,
and throw themselves eagerly into another. This satis
fies them as little as the first: there is no object
under the sun or moon that will satisfy them. Would
we that any such object should satisfy them ? By no
means : that nothing finite and perishable can satisfy
them ; this is precisely the one tie that still connects
them with the Eternal and preserves them in exist
ence : did they find any one earthly object that should
fill them with perfect satisfaction, then were they thereby
irretrievably thrust forth from the Godhead, and cast
out into the eternal death of Nothingness. And thus
do they fret and vex away their life ; in every con
dition thinking that if it were but otherwise with them
it would be better with them, and then, when it has
become otherwise, discovering that it is not better;
in every position believing that if they could but attain
yonder height which they descry above them, they would
be freed from their anguish, but finding nevertheless,
even on the attained height, their ancient sorrow. In
riper years, perchance, when the fresh enthusiasm and
glad hopefulness of youth have vanished, they take
counsel with themselves, review their whole previous
life, and venture to draw therefrom some definite con
clusion ; it may be, to acknowledge that no earthly
good whatever can give them satisfaction : And what

THE TRUE LIFE AND THE APPARENT LIFE. 305

do they now? They determine perhaps to renounce all
faith in happiness and peace; blunting or deadening, as
far as possible, their still inextinguishable aspirations ;
and then they call this insensibility the only true wis
dom, this despair of all salvation the only true salvation
and their pretended knowledge that man is not destined to
happiness, but only to this vain striving with nothing and
for nothing, the true understanding. Perchance they re
nounce only their hope of satisfaction in this earthly life;
but please themselves with a certain promise, handed down
to them by tradition, of a Blessedness beyond the grave.
Into what a mournful delusion do they now fall ! Full
surely, indeed, there lies a Blessedness beyond the grave for
those who have already entered upon it here, and in no
other form or way than that by which they can already
enter upon it here, in this present moment ; but by mere
burial man cannot arrive at Blessedness, and in the future
life, and throughout the whole infinite range of all future
life, they would seek for happiness as vainly as they have
already sought it here, if they were to seek it in aught else
than in that which already surrounds them so closely here
below that throughout Eternity it can never be brought
nearer to them, in the Infinite. And thus does the poor
child of Eternity, cast forth from his native home, yet sur
rounded on all sides by his heavenly inheritance which his
trembling hand fears to grasp, wander with fugitive and
uncertain step throughout the waste, everywhere labouring
to establish for himself a dwelling-place, but happily ever
reminded, by the speedy downfall of each of his successive
habitations, that he can find peace nowhere but in his
Father s house.

Thus, my hearers, is the True Life necessarily Blessedness
itself; and the Apparent Life necessarily Unblessedness.

And now consider with me the following : I say, the
element, the atmosphere, the substantial form if this latter
expression may be better understood the element, the

q a

306 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

atmosphere, the substantial form of the True Life, is
THOUGHT.

In the first place, no one surely will be disposed, seri
ously, and in the proper meaning of the words, to ascribe
Life and Blessedness to anything which is not conscious
of itself. All Life thus presupposes self-consciousness, and
it is self-consciousness alone which is able to lay hold of
Life and make it an object of enjoyment.

Thus then : The True Life and its Blessedness consists
in a union with the Unchangeable and Eternal : but the
Eternal can be apprehended only by Thought, and is in no
other way approachable by us. The One and Unchangeable
is apprehended as the foundation of ourselves and of the
world, and this in a double respect : partly as the cause
whereby all things have come into existence, and have not
remained in mere nothingness; partly that in Him, and in
His essential nature which in this way only is con
ceivable to us, but in all other ways remains wholly
inconceivable is contained the cause why all things
exist as they are and in no other way. And thus the
True Life and its Blessedness consists in Thought ; that
is, in a certain definite view of ourselves and the world,
as proceeding from the essential, self-contained Divine
Nature : and therefore a Doctrine of Blessedness can be
nothing else than a Doctrine of Knowledge, since there is
absolutely no other doctrine but a Doctrine of Knowledge.
In the mind, in the self-supporting life of Thought,
Life itself subsists, for beyond the mind there is no true
Existence. To live truly, means to think truly, and to
discern the truth.

Thus it is : let no one be deceived by the invectives
which, in these later godless and soulless times, are poured
forth on what is termed speculation. It is a striking charac
teristic of these invectives that they proceed from those
only who know nothing of speculation ; no one who does
know it has inveighed against it. It is only to the highest

LECTURE I. 3Q7

flight of thought that the Godhead is revealed, and it is to

be apprehended by no other sense whatever; to seek to

make men suspicious of this mental effort, is to wish to cat
them off for ever from God and from the enjoyment of
Blessedness.

Wherein should Life and the Blessedness of Life have
their element if they had it not in Thought ? Perhaps in
certain sensations and feelings, with reference to which it
matters not to us whether they minister to the grossest. sen
sual enjoyments or the most refined spiritual raptures ?
How could a mere feeling, which by its very nature is de
pendent on circumstance, secure for itself an eternal and
unchangeable duration ? and how could we, amid the ob
scurity which, for the same reason, necessarily accompanies
mere feeling, inwardly perceive and enjoy such an un
changeable continuance ? No : it is only the light of pure
Knowledge, thoroughly transparent to itself, and in free
possession of all that it contains, which, by means of this
clearness, can ensure its unalterable endurance.

Or, shall the Blessed Life consist in virtuous conduct and
behaviour ? What the profane call virtue, i.e. that a man
pursue his calling or occupation in a legitimate way, give
other men their due, and perhaps bestow something on the
poor: this virtue will, hereafter as hitherto, be exacted by
law, and prompted by natural sympathy. But no one can
rise to True Virtue, to god-like, creative action, whence
arises everything True and Good in this world, who does
not lovingly embrace the Godhead in clear comprehen
sion ; while he who does so embrace it will thus act
without either formal intention or positive reward, and
cannot act otherwise.

We do not here, by any means, promulgate a new doctrine
regarding the spiritual world, but this is the old doctrine
which has been taught in all ages. Thus, for example,
Christianity makes Faith the one indispensable condition of
True Life and Blessedness, and rejects, as worthless and

308 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

dead, everything without exception that does not spring
from this Faith. But this Faith is the same thing which
we have here named Thought: the only true view of our
selves, and of the world, in the One Unchangeable Divine
Being. It is only after this Faith, i.e. this clear and
living Thought, has disappeared from the world that
men have placed the conditions of the Blessed Life in
what is called virtue, and thus sought a noble fruit on a
wild and uncultivated stem.

To this Life, the general characteristics of which have
been set forth in this preliminary sketch, I have here pro
mised to point you the way; I have pledged myself to show
you the means by which this Blessed Life may be attained
and enjoyed. This instruction may be comprised in a single
remark, this namely: It is not required of man that he
should create the Eternal, which he could never do; the
Eternal is in him, and surrounds him at all times; he has
but to forsake the Transitory and Perishable with which the
True Life can never unite, and thereupon the Eternal, with
all its Blessedness, will forthwith descend and dwell with
him. We cannot win Blessedness, but we may cast away
our wretchedness; and thereupon Blessedness will forthwith
of itself supply the vacant place. Blessedness, as we have
seen, is unwavering repose in the One Eternal; wretched
ness is vagrancy amid the Manifold and Transitory ; and
therefore the condition of becoming blessed is the return
of our love from the Many to the One.

That which is vagrant amid the Manifold and Transitory
is dissolved, poured forth, and spread abroad like water ;
because of its desire to love this and that and many
things besides, it really loves nothing ; and just because it
would be everywhere at home, it is nowhere at home. This
/ vagrancy is our peculiar nature, and in it we are born. For
this reason the return of the mind to the One Eternal,
which never arises by the common view of things but
must be brought about by our own effort, appears as concert-

LECTURE I. 309

tration of the mind, and its indwelling in itself; as earnest
ness, in opposition to the merry game we play amid the
manifold diversities of life; and as profound tJiouglitfulness,
in opposition to the light-hearted thoughtlessness which,
while it has much to comprehend, yet comprehends noth
ing thoroughly. This profound and thoughtful earnestness,
this strict concentration of the mind, and its indwelling in
itself, is the one condition under which the Blessed Life
can approach us ; but under this condition it approaches
and dwells with us surely and infallibly.

It is certainly true, that, by this withdrawal of our mind
from the Visible, the objects of our former love fade from
our view, and gradually disappear, until we regain them
clothed with fresh beauty in the a3ther of the new world
which rises before us ; and that our whole previous life
perishes, until we regain it as a slight adjunct to the new
life which begins within us. But this is the destiny in
separable from all Finite Existence ; only through death
does it enter into life. Whatever is mortal must die, no
thing can deliver it from the power of its own nature ; in
the Apparent Life it dies continually; where the True Life
begins, in that one death it dies for ever, and for all the
unknown series of future deaths which in the Apparent
Life may yet lie before it.

I have promised to show you the way towards the Blessed
Life ! But with what applications, and under what images,
forms, and conceptions, shall such instruction be addressed
to this age, in these circumstances ? The images and forms
of the established religion, which say the same things which
alone we can say here, and which say them besides in the
same way in which alone we can say them here, because it
is the most fitting way, these images and forms have been
first of all emptied of their significance, then openly derided,
and lastly given over to silent and polite contempt. The
propositions and syllogisms of the philosophers are accused
of being pernicious to the country and the nation, and sub-

310 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

versive of sound sense, and that before a tribunal where
neither accuser nor judge appears; and this might be en
dured : but what is worse, every one who will believe it
is told beforehand that he can never understand these
propositions and syllogisms ; with this object, that he
may not accept the words in their natural sense and as
they stand, but seek behind them for some peculiar and
hidden meaning; and in this way misconception and
confusion are sure to arise.

Or, even were it possible to discover forms and applica
tions by means of which we might communicate such in
struction, how should we awaken a desire to receive it,
here, where it is universally taught, and now with greater
applause than ever, that despair of all salvation is the only
possible salvation ; that the faith that mankind are but
the sport of an arbitrary and capricious God is the
only true wisdom ; and where he who still believes in
God and Truth, and in Life and Blessedness therein, is
laughed at as an inexperienced boy who knows nothing of
the world ?

Be this as it may, we have yet courage in store ; and to
have striven for a praiseworthy end, even if it be in vain, is
yet worth our labour. I see before me now, and I hope
still to see here, persons who have partaken in the best cul
ture which our age affords. First of all, women, to whom,
by the social arrangements of mankind, has been assigned
the task of caring for the minor external wants, and
also for the decorations of human life, an employment
which, more than any other, distracts the mind and
draws it away from clear and earnest reflection, while,
by way of compensation, wise nature has implanted in
them warmer aspirations towards the Eternal, and a
more refined perception of it. Then I see before me
men of business, whose calling drags them, every day
of their lives, through many and varied details, which
are, indeed, connected with the Eternal and Unchano-e-

LECTURE I. 311

able, but so that not every one can discover, at the
first glance, the link that unites them. Lastly, I see before
me young scholars, in whom the form in which the Eternal
is destined to pervade their being still labours in the pre
paration of its future abode. While, with reference to this
latter class, I may perhaps venture to flatter myself with the
hope that some of my suggestions may contribute towards
that preparation, with reference to the two former classes, I
make far more modest pretensions. I ask them only to
accept from me what they might doubtless have acquired
for themselves independent of my help, but which I acquire
with less labour and by a shorter path.

While all these are disturbed and divided by the multi
farious objects to which their thoughts must be applied, the
philosopher pursues, in solitary silence and in unbroken
concentration of mind, his single and undeviating course
towards the Good, the Beautiful, and the True; and has for
his daily labour that to which others can only resort at
times for rest and refreshment after toil. This fortunate lot
has fallen upon me among others ; and therefore I now pro
pose to communicate to you here, so far as I myself possess
it and understand how to communicate it to you, whatever
may be so appropriated from my speculative labours, intelli
gible to the general mind, and conducive to the attainment
of the Good, the Beautiful, and the Eternal.

( 313 )

LECTURE II.

KEFUTATION OF OBJECTIONS TO POPULAR
METAPHYSICAL TEACHING.

STRICT order and method will, naturally and without farther
care on our part, arise throughout the whole subject-matter
of the discourses which I here propose to address to you, as
soon as we shall have made good our entrance within its
boundaries and set our foot firmly on its domain. As yet
we are still occupied with this last-mentioned business; and
with regard to it, the chief thing we have now to do is to
acquire a clearer and freer insight into the essential prin
ciples which were set forth in our last lecture. In our next
lecture we shall go over once again that which we have
already said; proceeding however from a different starting-
point, and employing a different language.

For to-day I entreat you to enter with me on the follow
ing preliminary considerations :

We wish to acquire a clear insight, I said : clearness,
however, is only to be found in depth; on the surface there
never lies aught but obscurity and confusion. He, therefore,
who invites you to clear knowledge, must necessarily in
vite you to descend with him into the depths of thought,
And thus I will by no means deny, but rather openly declare
at the outset, that I have already in my previous lecture
touched upon the deepest foundations and elements of all

r a

314) THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

knowledge, beyond which there is no knowledge; and that
in my next lecture I propose to set forth these same ele
ments, or, in the language of the schools, the profoundest
Metaphysics and Ontology, in a different and indeed in
a popular way.

Against such an undertaking as the present two objec
tions are commonly urged, either that it is impossible to
treat these subjects in a popular way, or that it is un-
aduisable to do so, the latter objection being sometimes
made by philosophers who would willingly make a mystery
of their knowledge ; and I must before all things answer
these objections, in order that in addition to the difficulties
of the subject itself I may not besides have to combat an
aversion to it on your part.

In the first place, as regards the possibility : I indeed do
not know whether any philosopher whatever, or in particu
lar myself, has ever succeeded or ever shall succeed in ele
vating, by way of popular instruction, those who either will
not or cannot study philosophy systematically to the com
prehension of its fundamental truths. But, on the other
hand, I do know, and perceive with absolute certainty, the
two following truths : First, that if any man do not at
tain to insight into these elements of all knowledge, the
artistic and systematic development of which alone, but not
their substance, has become the exclusive property of scien
tific philosophy, if any man, I say, do not attain to insight
into these elements of all knowledge, then such a man can
likewise never attain to Thought, and to a true inward in
dependence of spirit, but remains enthralled within the
limits of mere Opinion, and, during his whole life, is never
a proper individual mind, but only an appendix to other
minds ; he wants an organ of the spiritual sense and that
the noblest of them all : that, therefore, the assertion, that
it is neither possible nor advisable to elevate those who can
not study philosophy systematically to an insight into the
nature of the spiritual world by some other means, is just

LECTURE IT. 315

equivalent to this, that it is impossible that any one who
has not studied in the schools should ever attain to true
Thought and spiritual independence ; the school alone, and
nothing but the school, being the sole progenitor and nurs
ing mother of mind ; or that, even were it possible, it would
not be advisable ever to give spiritual freedom to the un
learned, but that these should always remain under the
guardianship of pretended philosophers,a mere appanage to
their sovereign understanding. For the rest, the distinction
which we have here touched upon between true Thought
and mere Opinion will become perfectly clear and distinct
at the beginning of our next lecture.

Secondly, I know and perceive, with like certainty, the
following : that it is only by means of Thought, proper,
pure, and true thought, and absolutely by no other organ,
that man can approach the Godhead and the Blessed Life
which proceeds from the Godhead, and can bring them
home to himself; that therefore the assertion that it is
impossible to communicate profound truth in a popular
way is equivalent to this, that only through a syste
matic study of philosophy is it possible for man to
elevate himself to Religion and its blessings, and that
every one who is not a philosopher must remain for
ever shut out from God and his kingdom. In our argu
ment everything depends upon the principle that the
True God and the True Religion are to be approached
and comprehended only by pure Thought; and we must
often dwell upon this principle and endeavour to make
it evident on all sides. Religion does not consist in that
wherein it is placed by the common mode of thought,
namely in this, that man should believe, be of opinion,
and rest satisfied, because no one has the hardihood to
assert the opposite, his belief resting wholly on hearsay
and outward assurance, that there is a GOD : this is a
vulgar superstition \)j which, at most, a defective police
system may be remedied, while the inward nature of man

316 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

remains as bad as before, and indeed frequently is made
worse, since he forms this God after his own image, and in
him only manufactures a new prop for his own corruption.
But herein Religion does consist, that man in his own per
son and not in that of another, with his own spiritual eye
and not through thatof another, should immediately behold,
have, and possess God. This, however, is possible only by
means of pure, independent Thought, for only through this
does man assume true and real personality, and this alone is
the eye to whioh God can become visible. ]Pure Thought
I is jtse]-ibe Divine Existence ; and, on the other hand,
the Divine Existence, in its immediate essence, is nothing
N else than pure Thought.

Besides, to look at this matter historically, the assump
tion that absolutely all men without exception ma,y come
to the knowledge of God, as well as the effort to raise them
all to this knowledge, is the assumption and the effort of
Christianity ; and, since Christianity is the developing
principle and peculiar characteristic of modern time, this
assumption and this effort form the peculiar spirit of the
Age of the New Testament. Now the two expressions,
to elevate all men without exception to the knowledge of
God, and, to communicate to mankind at large the deep
est elements and foundations of knowledge in another way
than that of systematic instruction, mean strictly and
entirely one and the same thing. It is clear, therefore,
that every one who does not wish to return to the ancient
times of Heathendom must admit not only the possibility,
but the irremissible duty, of communicating to men the
profoundest principles of knowledge in a generally com
prehensible form.

But, to close this argument for the possibility of a
popular exposition of the profoundest truth with the most
decisive proof, that of facts : Has then this knowledge,
which we have undertaken, by means of these lectures, to
unfold in those who as yet have it not, and to strengthen

LECTURE II. 317

and purify in those who already possess it, has it never
until our time been present in the world, and do we pre
tend now to introduce something wholly new and hitherto
nowhere discoverable ? We would not wish to think that
this latter had even been said of us ; but, on the contrary,
we maintain that this knowledge, in all its clearness and\
purity, which we can by no means surpass, and in every
age from the origin of Christianity downwards, although
for the most part unrecognized, and even persecuted by
the dominant church, has yet, here and. there, secretly
ruled the minds of men and disseminated itself abroad.
On the other hand, we do not hesitate to say that the
method of clear, consecutive, systematic, and scientific de
duction, by which we for our part have attained to this
knowledge, has in former times, not indeed in respect of
trial, but certainly in respect of success, been unknown in
the world ; and that, under the guidance of the spirit of our
.great forefathers, it has been for the most part our own work.
If, then, this scientific, philosophical insight was before
awanting, in what way did Christ, or since, in his case,
some will assume for it a miraculous, supernatural origin,
which I will not here dispute, in what way did Christ s
Apostles, in what way did all those who, from their time
down to our own, have possessed this knowledge, in
what way did they actually acquire it ? Among the for
mer, as among the latter, there were many very unlearned
persons, wholly ignorant of philosophy or even opposed to
it ; the few among them who meddled with philosophy at
all, and with Avhose philosophy we are acquainted, so
philosophized that it is easy for the educated man to per
ceive that it was not to their philosophy that they owed
their insight. But to say, that they did not obtain that
insight by way of philosophy, is just to say, that they did
obtain it in a popular way. Why then should that which
has been possible heretofore, in an unbroken sequence for
nearly two thousand } 7 ears, be now impossible ? Why

318 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGIOX.

should that which was possible with very imperfect aids,
at a period when general enlightenment was nowhere to
be found in the world, be no longer possible now when
the needful aids have been perfected, and, at least in philo
sophy, the requisite enlightenment exists? Why should
that which was possible when religious faith and natural
understanding were yet at variance to a certain extent,
become impossible now that they have been reconciled to
each other, and, forgetting their former disunion, pursue
in friendship one and the same end ?

That which follows most decisively from all these con
siderations is the duty incumbent upon every man who is
penetrated by this higher knowledge to exert all his powers
to communicate that knowledge, wherever possible, to the
whole brotherhood of humanity ; presenting it to each in
dividual in that form in which it is most accessible to
him ; never debating with himself, nor wavering in doubt,
whether or not it may succeed, but labouring as if it must
of necessity succeed; and after each completed effort,
rising with new and fresh vigour as if nothing had yet
been attained ; and, on the other hand, the duty of each
individual who is not yet in possession of this knowledge,
or who does not possess it in fitting clearness and freedom
and as an ever-present possession, to devote himself wholly
and unreservedly to the instruction thus offered to him,
as if it were destined for him especially, and belonged to
him, and must of necessity be understood by him ; not
fearfully and timidly exclaiming " Ah ! shall I indeed
understand it ? " or, " Do I then understand it rightly ? "
Understand it rightly, in the sense of perfect comprehension,
would be saying much ; in this sense, these lectures may
perhaps be understood fully only by such as could them
selves have spoken them. But it will have been under
stood, and that not erroneously, by every one who, moved
by these discourses, is elevated above the common view
of the world, and inspired with exalted sentiments and

LECTURE II. 319

resolves. The reciprocal obligation to both these duties
lies at the foundation of the contract we entered into at
the beginning of these lectures. I will unweariedly search
for new forms, applications, and combinations, as if it were
impossible to make myself fully intelligible to you : do
you on the other hand, that is, you who seek instruction
here for to the others I willingly limit myself to counsel
do you proceed with earnestness and courage to the
business,, as if you had to understand me by hints or half
words only ; and in this way I believe that we shall agree
well together.

These considerations on the possibility and necessity of a
generally comprehensible exposition of the deepest elements
of knowledge acquire a new significance and convincing
power, when we examine more strictly the peculiar and
characteristic distinction between the Popular and the
Scientific discourse ; a distinction which, so far as I am
aware, is virtually unknown, and which, in particular,
lies wholly concealed from those who talk so readily of
the possibility and impossibility of popular expositions.
The Scientific discourse eliminates truth from amono-

O

the errors which surround and oppose it on all sides
and in every form ; and, by demolition of these opposing
views as error and as impossible to true thought, shows
the truth as that which alone remains after their ex
clusion, and therefore as the only possible truth : and
in this separation of opposites, and elucidation of the
truth from the confused chaos in which truth and error
lie mingled together, consists the peculiar and character
istic nature of the Scientific discourse. By this method
truth emerges before our eyes out of a world full of
error. Now it is obvious that the philosopher, before
;such sifting of truth, before he could either project or begin
it, and therefore independent of scientific proof, must al
ready possess truth. But how could he attain possession of
it except by the guidance of a natural sense of truth which

320 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

exists in him with higher power than in his contempora
ries ? and in what other way, then, has he at first
attained it but by the un artificial popular way ? To
this natural sense of truth, which is thus seen to be the
starting-point even of scientific philosophy, the Popular
discourse addresses itself immediately without calling
aught else to its aid, setting forth the truth, and
nothing but the truth, purely and simply, as it is in
itself and not as it stands opposed to error, and cal
culates upon the spontaneous assent of this natural
sense of truth. This discourse cannot indeed prove any
thing, but it must certainly be understood ; for intelligence
itself is the only organ whereby we can apprehend its im
port, and without this it cannot reach us at all. Tho Scien
tific discourse presupposes in the hearer an entanglement in
the meshes of error, and addresses itself to a diseased and
perverted spiritual nature ; the Popular discourse presup
poses an open and candid mind, and appeals to a healthy,
although not sufficiently cultivated, spiritual nature. After
all this, how can the philosopher entertain a doubt that
the natural sense of truth in man is sufficient to lead
him to the knowledge of truth, since he himself has
attained to that knowledge by this means and no other ?

But notwithstanding that the comprehension of the deep
est truths of lleason, by means of a popular exposition, is
possible, notwithstanding further that this comprehension
is a necessary purpose of humanity towards the attainment
of which every power ought to be directed, we must never
theless acknowledge that there are, in the present age^
greater hindrances to the accomplishment of this purpose
than have existed at any previous time. In the first place,
the very form of this higher truth, this strictly determi
nate, settled, absolutely unchanging and unchangeable form,
comes into collision, and that in a two-fold manner, with
the hesitating modesty which this age has not indeed in
itself but yet would exact from every one who undertakes

LECTURE II. 321

to deal with it. It is not to be denied that this knowledge
assumes itself to be true, and alone true, and true only in
the sharp and complete precision in which it is thus an
nounced, and everything opposed to it, absolutely and
without exception or mitigation, to be false; that therefore
it seeks, without forbearance, to subdue all weak partiali
ties, all vagrant fancies, and wholly disdains to enter into any
treaty or compromise with the other side. The men of these
days are offended at this severity, as if they were thereby
grievously ill-treated; they would be deferentially saluted,
and consulted as to whether they will lend their sanction to
such a matter ; would make conditions on their side, and
there should be some elbow-room left for their tricks of le
gerdemain. Others are dissatisfied with this form of truth,
because it requires them at once to take their part for or
against, and to decide on the instant yes or no. For they
are in no haste to know for certain about that which never
theless is alone worth knowing, and would willingly suspend
their judgment in case it should afterwards turn out to be
wholly otherwise; and besides it is very convenient to con
ceal their want of understanding under the fashionable and
high-sounding name of Scepticism, and to allow mankind
to believe that there, where in fact they have been found
wanting in power to comprehend that which lies clear
before them, it has been their superior acuteness and pene
tration which has disclosed to them certain unheard-of,
and to all other men inaccessible, grounds for doubt.

Again, there is a hindrance to the successful issue of our
-undertaking in this age, in the monstrously paradoxical,
strange, and unheard-of appearance of our doctrine, since it
turns into falsehood precisely those things which the age
has hitherto prized as the most precious and sacred results
of its culture and enlightenment. Not as if our doctrine
were in itself new and paradoxical. Among the Greeks,
Plato held the same faith. The Johannean Christ said
precisely the same things which we teach and prove, and

s a

322 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

even said them in the same language which \ve here
employ ; and in these very times, arid among our own
nation, our two greatest Poets have given expression to
the same truth in manifold applications and under many
forms. But the Johannean Christ has been superseded by
his less spiritual followers; and Poets, it is thought, desire
only to utter fine words and to produce musical sounds.

That this ancient doctrine, which has thus been renewed
from age to age down even to these later times, should yet
seem so wholly new and unheard-of to this age, arises
in this way. After the revival of learning in Modern
Europe, and particularly since, by means of the Church
Reformation, the examination of the highest religious
truth was freely laid open to the mind, there gradually
arose a philosophy which made the experiment whether
the books of Nature and of Knowledge, which were to
it unintelligible, might not assume a meaning when read
backwards ; whereby indeed everything without excep
tion was taken out of its natural position, and set head
downwards. This philosophy took possession, as ever} -
prevalent philosophy necessarily does, of all the avenues
of public instruction, catechisms, schoolbooks, public
religious discourses, literature. All our youthful culture
fell within this period. There is thus no wonder that, after
the unnatural had become to us natural, Nature herself
should seem to us unnatural; and that, after we had been
accustomed to see all things upside-down, we should ima
gine them to be inverted when we beheld them restored to
their true position. This indeed is an error which will dis
appear with the age which produced it; for we, who explain
death by life, the body by the soul, and not the reverse as
these moderns do, we are the true followers of the
Ancients ; only that we see clearly what remained dark to
them ; while the philosophy which we have alluded to above
is not even an advance in time, but only a ludicrous inter
lude, a petty appendix to thorough barbarism.

LECTURE JI. 393

Lastly, those who might perchance of themselves over
come the two hindrances now pointed out, may yet be
scared back by the hateful and malignant objections urged
by the fanatics of perversity. It may indeed be wondered
at that such perversity, not satisfied with being in its own
person perverse, should besides exhibit a fanatical zeal for
the maintenance and diffusion of the same perversitv in
others. Yet even this may be readily explained, and in
this way. When these fanatics had reached the years of re
flection and self-knowledge, and had examined themselves
and their own inward being, and found nothing there but
the impulse towards personal, sensuous, well-being, had not
felt the slightest desire either to discover within themselves,
or to acquire from without, anything but what they found
there, they have then looked around upon their fellow-
men, observed them, and fancied that neither was there
anything to be met with in them higher than this same im
pulse towards personal, sensuous, well-being. Hereupon
they have satisfied themselves that in this consists the es
sential nature of humanity; and having cultivated this na
ture in themselves with unremitting care and to the highest
possible perfection, they have necessarily become in their
own eyes the most preeminent and distinguished among
men, since they were conscious of being virtuosi in those
things wherein the worth of humanity consists. Thus have
they thought and acted throughout life. But should it ap
pear that they have been mistaken in the major proposition
of their syllogism, if in others of their species there has
been manifested something else, and in this case something
undeniably higher and more divine than the mere impulse
towards personal, sensuous, well being, then they who had
hitherto held themselves to be men of distinguished preemi
nence would be found to belong to a lower race, and instead
of as before esteeming themselves higher than all others,
they would be compelled thenceforward to despise and reject
themselves. They cannot do otherwise than angrily oppose

THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

this conviction of a higher nature in man, which brings only
disgrace to them, and all phenomena which confirm this
conviction ; they must necessarily do everything in their
power to keep such phenomena at a distance from them
selves, and even to suppress them altogether; they struggle
for life, for the most delicate and innermost root of their
life, for the possibility of self-endurance. All fanaticism,
and all its angry exhibitions, from the beginning of the
world down to the present day, have proceeded from this
principle : " If my opponent be right, then am I a
miserable man." Where this fanaticism can wield fire
and sword, with fire and s\vord it assails its detested
adversary ; where these instruments are beyond its reach,
it has still the tongue left, which, if it do not kill the
foe, is yet frequently able to cripple his activity and
influence with others. One of the most favourite and
customary tricks of tongue-fence among these fanatics is
this: to give to the thing which is hateful only to
them, a name which is hateful to all men, in order there
by to decry it and render it suspected. The existing
store of such tricks and nicknames is inexhaustible, and is
constantly enriched by fresh additions ; and it would be in
vain to attempt here any complete enumeration of them.
I shall notice only one of the most common of these odious
nicknames, i.e. the charge that this doctrine which we
teach is Mysticism.*

* " Above all, the mysticism of Fichte might astonish us. The cold,
colossal, adamantine spirit, standing erect and clear, like a Cato Major
among degenerate men ; fit to have been the teacher of the Stoa, and to have
discoursed of Beauty and Virtue in the groves of Academe ! Our reader
has seen some words of Fichte s : are these like words of a mystic ? . . .

We figure his motionless look, had he heard this charge of

mysticism ! For the man rises before us, amid contradiction and debate,
like a granite mountain amid clouds and wind. Ridicule, of the best thab
could be commanded, had been already tried against him ; but it could
not avail. What was the wit of a thousand wits to him] The cry of a
thousand choughs assaulting that old cliff of granite : seen from the sum
mit, these, as they winged the midway air, showed scarce so gross as beetles,
and their cry was seldom even audible." CAELYLE.

LECTURE II. 325

Observe, in the first place, with reference to the form of
this accusation, that should any candid unprejudiced person
answer : " Well, let us suppose that it is Mysticism, and
that Mysticism is an erroneous and dangerous thino- ; } e t
him for that very reason bring forward his doctrine, and we
will hear him: if it is erroneous and dangerous, this will
come to light when the opportunity is given;" these fana
tics must reply, in accordance with the peremptory de
cision by which they believe they have got rid of us;
"There is nothing more to hear; Mysticism has long
ago, for some generations back, by the unanimous voice of
all our literary Councils, been decreed to be heresy and
placed under excommunication."

Further to proceed from the form of this accusation to
its substance ; What then is this Mysticism which they
lay to our charge ? We shall not indeed receive a distinct
.answer to this question from them : for as they never
possess a clear, idea, but only think about high-sounding
phrases, so in this case they have no conception answering
to their words ; we must therefore help ourselves. There
is, unquestionably, a view of spiritual and sacred things
which, although correct in the main, is nevertheless
afflicted with a grievous infirmit} , and thereby rendered
impure and noxious. In my lectures of last year,* I
took occasion, in passing, to delineate this view, and I
may perhaps find it necessary this season to return to
the subject. This view, which in part is certainly a
much perverted one, is properly distinguished from the
true reliyious view by the name of Mysticism ; I my
self am wont to make this distinction, employing the
names just mentioned ; and from this Mysticism my
doctrine is far removed, and indeed wholly opposed to
it. Thus, I sa} r , do I regard the matter. But what
would the fanatics ? The distinction I have mentioned is

* " Characteristics of the Present Age," Lecture VIII.

326 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

completely concealed from their eyes, as well as from the
eyes of that philosophy which they follow ; according to
their unanimous resolutions, their criticisms, their discus
sions, their favourite works, and all their public manifesta
tions without exception, which he who can may examine
for himself, and the others may believe me upon trust, ac
cording to these unanimous resolutions, it is always the
True Religion, the Knowledge of God in spirit and in
truth, which they call Mysticism, and against which, in
fact, under this name, they hurl their anathema. Their
warnings against this doctrine, as Mysticism, therefore,
mean nothing else than what may be thus paraphrased :
"Yonder they will tell you of the existence of a spi
ritual world, revealed to no outward sense, but to be
apprehended only by pure thought : you are lost if you
allow yourselves to be persuaded of this, for there is
absolutely no existence but that which we can grasp witli
our hand, and we have nothing else to care for ; all else are
mere abstractions from the substantial realities we can
handle, with no substance in themselves, but which these
enthusiasts confound with palpable reality. They will tell
you of the reality, the inward independence, the creative
power of thought : you are lost to real life if you believe
them; for there is nothing really existing but, in the first
place, the stomach, and then that which supports it and
supplies it with food ; and it is only the gases that have
their birth in it which these dreamers call ideas." We ad
mit the whole accusation, and willingly confess, not without
joyful and exulting feelings, that, in this sense of the word,
our doctrine is indeed Mysticism. With these we have
therefore no new controversy to begin, but find ourselves
in the old controversy, never to be solved or reconciled ;
i.e. they say that all Religion truly it may be said of
the vulgar superstition we have before alluded to is
something in the highest degree objectionable and per
nicious, and must be extirpated from the earth, root and

LECTURE II. 327

branch ; and so the matter remains with them, while we
say that True Religion is something in the highest degree
blessed, and that which alone gives true existence, worth,
and dignity to man, here below and throughout eternity ;
and that every power must be put forth in order that this
Religion may, wherever it is possible, be made known to
all men ; this we recognise with absolute certainty, and
thus the matter remains on our side.

Meanwhile, that these persons should rather choose to say
" That is Mysticism," than, as they ought to say, " That is
Religion." arises, among other causes which do not belong to
our present subject, from the following : They desire by
this language, in the first place, imperceptibly to induce a
fear that, by means of this our doctrine, there may be intro
duced intolerance, desireof persecution, insubordination, and
civil disturbance ; or that, in one word, this doctrine is dan
gerous to the State -.secondly and chiefly, they wish to
create alarm, in those who may enter upon inquiries like
the present, as to their continuance in possession of a sound
mind, and to give them to understand that in this way they
may come at last to see ghosts in broad daylight which
would be a very great misfortune indeed. As to the first,
the danger to the State : they lay hold of the wrong
name for that from which danger may be feared, and
they doubtless calculate quite securely that no one will
be found to discover the change ; for neither that which
they call Mysticism the True Religion nor that which
we call by that name, has ever been known to perse
cute, to show intolerance, or to stir up civil commotion ;
throughout the whole history of Churches, heresies, and per
secutions, the persecuted party have ever occupied a propor
tionally higher, and the persecutors a lower position ; the
latter fighting, as we said above, for life. No! intolerance,
desire of persecution, insubordination toward the State,
belong only to that spirit by which they themselves are ani
mated, the fanaticism of perversity ; and, if it were other-

328 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

wise advisable, I would willingly Lave the fetters struck off
this very day from the enslaved, that it might be seen what
course they would take. As to the second object of solici
tude, the preservation of a sound mind : this depends in
the first instance on physical organization ; and against in
fluences of this kind, even the shallowest inanity, the lowest
vulgarity of soul, is by no means a safe-guard; hence there
is no occasion to throw ourselves into such a refuge in
order to escape the threatened danger. So far as I know,,
or have known, even those who live amid those investi
gations of which we now speak, and find in them their unin
terrupted daily labour, are by no means exposed to these
distractions, see no ghosts, and are as healthy, in mind and
body, as others. If, sometimes in life, they do not what
most other men in their place would have done, or do what
most other men in the same place would have left undone,
it is not because they are deficient in acuteness to perceive
the possibility of the one course of action, or the conse
quences of the other, as those who, in their place, would
certainly have done otherwise cannot refrain from thinking,
but for other reasons. If there must always be diseased
spiritual natures, who as soon as they quit their housekeep
ing books, or whatever other morsel of reality gives employ
ment to their faculties, forthwith fall into the mazes of
error, let such remain by their housekeeping books! but I
trust that the general rule may not be taken from them,
who, it is to be hoped, are the smaller number and are cer
tainly of the lower species ; nor, because there are feeble
and diseased creatures among men, the whole human race
be treated as if they were feeble and diseased. That we
have interested ourselves in the deaf, dumb, and blind, arid
have invented away whereby instruction may be communi
cated to them, is deserving of all thanks; from the deaf and
dumb, namely, and the blind. But if we were to make this
method of instruction the universal plan of education for
persons without these defects, because such persons may

LECTURE II. 329

encounter deaf, dumb, and blind people, and we should
thus be sure that we had provided for all ; if he who
can hear should, without regard to his hearing, be made
to talk by the same laborious process as the deaf and
dumb, and require to learn to detect the words upon the
lips ; and he who can see should, without regard to his see
ing, be taught to read the letters by the touch; this would
deserve little thanks indeed from those who are without
defect, although such an arrangement would certainly be
adopted as soon as the direction of public instruction
should be made dependent on the opinion of the deaf and
dumb and the blind.

These are the preliminary suggestions and considerations
which I have thought it advisable to communicate to you
to-day. Eight days hence I shall endeavour to set forth, in
a new light and upon a new side, the foundation-principles
of these lectures, which are at the same time the foun
dation-principles of all knowledge ; and to this I respect
fully invite you.

ta

( 331 )

LECTURE III.

DIFFICULTIES ARISING FROM THE COMMON MODE OF

THOUGHT : DEFINITION OF BEING (SEYN)

AND ^-TSTENCE (DASEYN.)

IN the first of these lectures we maintained that not every
thing which seems to be living does really and truly live ;
and in the second we said that a large portion of mankind,
throughout their whole Life, never attain to true and proper
Thought, but remain within the limits of mere Opinion. It
might well be, and indeed it has already become obvious
from other remarks which we made on that occasion, that
the phrases Thought and Life Though t-lessness and
Death, mean precisely one and the same thing ; we have
already shown that Thought is the element of Life, and
consequently the absence of Thought must be the source
of Death.

An important difficulty stands in the way of this asser
tion, to which I must now direct your attention, namely the
following : If Life be an organic whole, determined by one
universally efficient law, then it seems at first sight impos
sible that any one part appertaining to Life should be ab
sent where the others are present ; or that any one indivi
dual part should exist without all the parts proper to Life,
and consequently without Life itself as a whole, in its com
plete organic unity. In solving this difficulty, we shall also

332 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

be able to exhibit to you clearly the distinction between
true Thought and mere Opinion, which was the first busi
ness for to-day as announced in our last discourse, before
we proceed to the fulfilment of our other purpose in this
lecture, namely, to begin our mutual application of pure
Thought itself to the elements of all Knowledge.

The supposed difficulty is thus solved : Wherever spiri
tual Life is to be found, everything, without exception,
that belongs to this Life, follows wholly and unreserved
ly, according to the established law of its being : but
all this, which follows with absolute, and as it were
mechanical, necessity, does not necessarily enter into
consciousness ; it is there indeed, a Life according to the
law, but not our Life, not the Life which is properly
and peculiarly ours. Our Life is only that part of the
Life according to the law which we embrace in clear
consciousness, and, in this clear consciousness, love and en
joy. " Where Love is, there is individual Life," we said
once ; Love, however, exists only where there is clear
consciousness.

The development of this Conscious Life which in these
lectures is all to which we shall give the name of Life
within the whole mass of Life which has an existence ac
cording to the law, proceeds precisely like that of physical
death. As this, in its natural progress, begins at first in the
remoter members, those farthest removed from the central
seat of life, and from them spreads itself gradually to the
inward parts, until at last it reaches the heart ; so does the
spiritual Life, filled with consciousness, love, and enjoyment
of itself, begin at first in the extremities and remoter out
works of Life, until it also, with God s good pleasure, reaches
the true foundation and central point of all. An ancient
philosopher maintained that the animals had arisen from
the earth ; " as happens," he added, " even to the present
day in miniature, since every spring, particularly after a
warm rain, we may observe frogs, for example, in whom

LECTURE III. 333

some particular part, perhaps the fore-feet, may be quite
perfectly developed, while the other members still remain a
rude and undeveloped clod of earth." The half-animals of
this philosopher, although they scarcely afford sufficient
evidence of what they were designed to prove, yet present a
very striking illustration of the spiritual Life of ordinary
men. The outward members of this Life are indeed
perfectly formed and warm blood flows through the ex
tremities ; but when we look to the heart, and the other
nobler organs of life, which in like manner are there,
and must necessarily be there since otherwise even the
outward members themselves could not have been,
these organs, I say, are found to be still unsentient
clods frozen rocks.

I shall, first of all, convince you of this by a striking
example ; to which, although I shall express myself with
strict precision,! must yet require your particular attention,
on account of the novelty of the observation. We see, hear,
feel outward objects ; and along with this seeing, c., we
also think these objects, and are conscious of them by means
of our inward sense ; just as we are conscious, by the same
inward sense, of our seeing, hearing, and feeling of these ob
jects. I hope that no one who is possessed even of the com
monest power of reflection will maintain that he can see,
hear, or feel an object without being at the same time in
wardly conscious both of the object itself, and of his
seeing, hearing, or feeling of" it ; that he can see, hear,
or feel anything definite without consciousness. This
co-existence, this inseparability of the outward, sensible
perception and the inward thought or conception, this
co-existence, I say, and nothing more than this, lies in
practical self-observation or the fact of Consciousness ;
but this fact of consciousness does by no means con
tain, and I beg you to note this well, this fact of
consciousness does by no means contain any relation
between these two elements, the outward Sense and

334 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

the inward Thought, a relation of the one to the other,
it may be as Cause and Effect, or as Essential and Acci
dental. If any such relation between the two be assumed,
this is not in consequence of practical self-observation,
and it does not lie in the fact of consciousness : this is
the first thing that I beg of you to understand and
keep in mind.

Now, in the second place, should such a relation be as
sumed upon some other ground than that of self-observa
tion, which other possible ground we put in the place of
consciousness, should such a relation between the two
elements be, upon such a ground, supposed and accepted,
then it appears, at first sight, that the two elements, as co
existent and inseparable from each other, must be held to
be of equal rank ; and thus the inward thought may as well
be regarded as the foundation, the essential, and the out
ward perception as the superstructure, the accident, as the
reverse ; and in this way an insoluble doubt would neces
sarily arise between the two suppositions, which would for
ever prevent any final decision respecting the assumed re
lation. Thus, I say, it is at first sight ; but should any
one look deeper into the matter, then, inasmuch as the
inward consciousness embraces even the outward sense it
self, since we are conscious of the seeing, hearing, or feel
ing, but can by no means, on the other hand, see, hear, or
feel our consciousness, and thus, even in the immediate
fact, consciousness assumes the higher place : then, I say,
such an one would find it much more natural to make the
internal Consciousness the chief thing, and the external
Sense the subordinate thing; to explain the latter by the
former; to control and try the latter by the former; and
\not the reverse.

Now how does the common mode of thought proceed in
this matter ? To it, the outward Sense is, without further
inquiry, the first thing, the immediate touchstone of truth :
whatever is seen, heard, or felt, that is, just because it is

LECTURE III. 335

seen, heard, or felt. The Thought, or inward consciousness
of the object, comes afterwards, as a mere formal ad
dition which is scarcely to be noticed at all, and is
quite willingly dispensed with if it do not force itself
upon our observation ; and a thing is never seen or
heard because it is thought, but it is thought because
it is seen or heard, and that under the guidance and
control of this seeing and hearing. The perverse and
absurd modern philosophy referred to in our last lecture
as the peculiar organ and voice of common opinion, comes
forward and unblushingly declares : " Outward sense is
the only source of reality, and all our knowledge is founded
upon experience alone ; " as if this were an axiom to
which no one would presume to offer a single objection.
How is it that this common mode of thought, and its
guardians, have so easily set aside the causes of doubt
which we have just noticed, and even the positive
grounds for the adoption of the opposite view, as if they
had not even an existence ? Why does the opposite
view, which, even at the first glance, and as yet without
any deeper investigation, recommends itself as much
more natural and probable, that the whole outwards
Sense, and all its objects, are founded upon Thought I
alone, and that a sensible perception is possible only in
Thought, and as something thought, as a determination
of the general consciousness, but by no means in itself and
separated from consciousness, I mean, the view that it is
not true that we see, hear, and feel absolutely, but only
that we are conscious of seeing, hearing, feeling, why does
this view which we profess, and which we recognise with
absolute certainty to be the only right one, while we also
clearly perceive its opposite to be a palpable absurdity,
why does this view, or even the possibility of it, remain
wholly concealed from the common mode of thought ? It
may easily be explained : The judgment of this mode of
thought is the necessary expression of its actual degree of

336 THE DOCTRINE OF 11ELIGION.

life. For those who cannot go beyond this mode of thought,
Life dwells, in the meantime, only in outward Sense, the re
motest extremity of the nascent spiritual Life ; in outward
Sense they have their whole round of being, their most vital
existence; in it alone they feel, love, and enjoy; and,,
of necessity, where their heart is there is their faith
also : in Thought, on the contrary, Life does not spring
forth before them directly as living flesh arid blood, but
seems rather a formless mass; and therefore Thought
appears to them to be a vague and uncertain mist, be
longing neither to themselves nor to the matter in
hand. Should they ever come so far as to attain a more
intense existence in Thought than in seeing or hearing,
and to feel and enjoy in it more keenly than in Sense,
then would their judgment also be different from what
it is.

Thus is Thought, even in its lowest manifestation, de
graded and made of no account by the common view of
things, because this common view does not place the seat of
its Life in Thought, has not even extended its spiritual
feelers thus far. Thought in its lowest manifestation, I said;
for that, and nothing more, is this thought of external
objects, which has an antitype, a competitor for truth, in aa
outward sensible perception. Thought, in its high and
proper form, is that which creates its own purely spiritual
object absolutely from itself, without the aid of outward
sense, and without any reference whatever to outward sense.
In ordinary life this mode of thought presents itself when,
for example, the question arises with regard to the origin of
the World, or of the Human Race ; or regarding the inter
nal laws of Nature; where, in the first case, it is clear that
at the creation of the world, and before the appearance of
the human race, there was no observer present whose expe
rience could be cited ; and, in the second case, the question
is not regarding specific phenomena, but regarding that in
which all individual phenomena coincide; and that which

LECTURE m. 337

is to be evolved is not any visible event, but a mental
necessity, which not only is, but is thus, and cannot be
otherwise: that is, an object proceeding entirely from
Thought itself: which first point I beg of you thoroughly
to understand and recognise.

In matters pertaining to this higher Thought, the adher
ents of the common view proceed after this wise : they let
others invent, or, where they are possessed of greater power,
they invent for themselves, by means of vagrant and law
less thought, or, as it is called, fancy, one out of many
possible ways in which the actual fact in question may have
arisen; in the language of the schools they make an hypo
thesis: they then consult their desire, fear, hope, or what
ever may be their ruling passion for the time, and, should it
assent, the fiction becomes established as a firm and unal
terable truth. One of the many possible ways, I said ; and
this is the leading characteristic of the proceeding we have
described : but it is necessary that this expression should
be correctly understood. For, in itself, it is not true that
anything whatever is possible in many different ways; but
everything that is, is possible, actual, and at the same time
necessary, only in one perfectly fixed and definite way :
and herein, indeed, lies the fundamental error of this pro
ceeding, that it assumes many different possibilities, from
which it proceeds to select one for adoption, without being
able to verify this one by anything but its own caprice.
This proceeding is what we call Opinion, in opposition
to true Thought. Opinion, like Thought itself, possesses
as its domain the whole region lying beyond sensuous
experience; this region it fills with the productions of
fancy, either of others or its own, to which desire alone
gives substance and duration; and all this happens simply
and solely because the seat of its spiritual Life is as
yet no higher than in the extremities of blind desire or
aversion.

True Thought proceeds in a different way in filling up

u a

THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

this super-sensual region. It does not invent, but spon
taneously perceives, not one possibility among many, but
the one and only possible, actual, and necessary mode; and
this does not seek its confirmation in a proof lying beyond
itself, but it contains within itself its own confirmation ;
and, as soon as it is conceived, becomes evident to Thought
itself as the only possible and absolutely certain Truth,
establishing itself in the soul with an immovable certainty
and evidence that completely destroys even the possibility
of doubt. Since this certainty, as we have said, attaches it
self at once to the living act of Thought in its immediate
vitality, and to this only, it follows that every one who
would become a partaker in this certainty, must himself,
and in his own person, think the Truth, and cannot commit
to any other the accomplishment of this business in his
stead. Only this preliminary remark I desired to make
before proceeding, as I now do, to our mutual applica
tion of true Thought to the highest elements of Know
ledge.
ft

The first task of such Thought is to conceive of Being
in itself with strict exactitude. I approach this concep
tion thus ; I say : Being (Seyri), proper and true Being,
does not arise, does not proceed, does not come forth
out of nothingness (Nichtseyii) . For everything which
thus arises, you are compelled to assume a previous
causal being, by virtue of which the other at first arose.
If you hold that at some earlier period this second being
has itself arisen in its turn, then you are again compelled
to assume a third being by virtue of which the second
arose; and should you attribute a beginning to the third,
then you are compelled to assume a fourth, and so on for
ever. You must, in every case, at last arrive at a Being
that has not thus arisen, and which therefore requires no
other thing to account for its being, but which is absolutely
through itself, by itself, arid from itself. On this Being, to
which you must at last ascend from out the series of created

LECTURE III. 339

things, you must now and henceforward fix your attention;
and then it will become evident to you, if you have entered
fully with me into the preceding thoughts, that you can
only conceive of the true Being as a Being by itself, from
itself, arid through itself.

In the second place I add : that within this Beino- no-

1 O

thing new can arise, nothing can alter its shape, nor shift
nor change ; but that as it is now, so has it been from all
eternity, and so it endures unchangeably in all eternity.
For, since it is through itself alone, so is it, completely,
without division, and without abatement, all that, through
itself, it can be and must be. Were it at any time to become
something new, then must it either have been previously
hindered, by some being foreign to itself, from becoming
this something ; or it must become this something new
through the power of a being foreign to itself, which now
for the first time begins to exert an influence upon it :
both of which suppositions stand in direct contradiction to
its absolute independence and self-sufficiency. And thus
it will become evident to you, if you have thoroughly
comprehended these thoughts, that Being can be con
ceived of only as absolutely One not as Many ; only as a
self-comprehending, self-sufficient, and absolutely un
changeable Unity.

By this course of thought and this is my third point
you arrive only at a Being (Seyn) enclosed, concealed,
wholly comprehended, in itself; you do not, by any means,
arrive at an Ex-istence (Daseyn ./*) I say at an Ex
istence, manifestation, or revelation of this Being. I am
most anxious that you should understand this at once ;

* The English language does not contain terms b} T which the opposition
of the German " Seyn " and " Daseyn " can be expressed with the dis
tinctness of the original. " Being and " .Existence " are here adopted
as the nearest approach to a correct translation that our language admits
of, although the awkwardness of the expression is obvious, and the strict
philosophical meaning here attached to those terms is unknown in their
common use. Tr.

340 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

and you will undoubtedly do so when you have strictly
considered the conception of Being as now set forth, and
have so become conscious in yourselves of what is con
tained in this thought, and what is not contained in it.
The natural illusion which may obscure your minds
against the desired insight, I shall very soon examine.

To explain this more fully : You perceive that I dis
tinguish Being (Seyn) essential, self-comprehended Being
from Ex-istence (Daseyn}, and represent these two
ideas as opposed to each other, as not even directly con
nected with each other. This distinction is of the weightiest
importance; and only through it can clearness and cer-
^tainty be attained in the highest elements of Knowledge.
What Ex-istence (Daseyn] really is, will best be made evi
dent by actual contemplation of this Ex-istence. I say,
therefore : Essentially and at the root the Ex-istence of
Being is the consciousness or conception of Being; as may
be made clear at once in the use of the word " is " when ap
plied to any particular object, for example, to this wall.
For, what is this " z s" in the proposition, " The wall is?"
It is obviously not the wall itself and identical with it; it
does not even assume that character, but it distinguishes
the wall, by the third person, as independent; it thus only
assumes to be an outward characteristic of essential Being,
an image or picture of such Being, or, as we have ex
pressed it above, and as it is most distinctly expressed,
the immediate, outward Ex-istence of the wall, as its
^Being out of its Being. (It is admitted that the whole of
this experiment demands the most subtle abstraction
and the keenest inward observation ; and it may be
added, as the proof, that no one has thoroughly per
formed the task, to whom it has not become evident that
the whole, and particularly the last expression, is per
fectly exact.)

The common mode of thought, it is true, is not wont to
remark this distinction ; and it may well be that what I

LECTURE III. 341

have now said may seem to many something wholly new
and unheard of. The reason of which is, that their love and
affection are attracted directly to the object itself, and to
it exclusively, and are wholly occupied with it, so that
they have no time to tarry by the " is," or to consider its
significance, and thus it is wholly lost to them. Hence it
usually happens that, leaping over the Ex-istence (Daseyn),
we believe that we have arrived at Being (Seyn) itself;
while nevertheless we forever remain in the fore-court, in
the Ex-istence: and this common delusion may render the
proposition which we have submitted to you above, at first
sight, dark and unintelligible. In our present inquiry, how
ever, everything depends on our comprehending this pro
position at once, and henceforth giving it due attention.

We said that the Consciousness of Being, the " is " to the
Being, is itself the Ex-istence (Daseyn) : leaving out of
sight, in the meantime, the supposition, founded on ap
pearance, that Consciousness may be only one among
other possible forms, modes, and kinds of Ex-istence ;
and that there may be many other, perhaps an infinite
variety of, such forms, modes, and kinds of Ex-isteuce.
This supposition, however, must now be dismissed :
in the first place, because we here desire not to accumu
late mere opinions, but truly to think ; and secondly, with
reference to its consequences, for with such a possibility
remaining, our union with the Absolute, as the only source
of Blessedness, could never be attained ; but there would
rather be placed, between the Absolute and us, an immea
surable chasm as the true source of all Unblessedness.

We have therefore to make it manifest to you in thought,
which is our fourth point that the Consciousness of
Being is the only possible form and mode of the Ex-istence
(Daseyn) of Being; and, consequently, is itself immediately
and absolutely this Ex-istence of Being. We conduct you
to this insight in the following way : Being (Seyn) dS
such, as Being, as abiding, unchangeable Being, without in

342 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

any respect laying aside its absolute character and inter
mingling or blending itself with Ex-istence must ex-ist.
Hence it must be distinguished from, and opposed to, Ex
istence ; and indeed since besides the absolute Being
(Seyn) itself there is nothing else whatever but its Ex-
istence (Daseyn) this distinction and opposition must be
manifest in the Ex-istence (Daseyn) itself: and this, more
clearly expressed, is equivalent to the following: Ex-ist
ence (Daseyn) must apprehend, recognise, and image forth
itself as mere Ex-istence : and, opposed to itself, it must as
sume and image forth an absolute Being (Seyn), whose mere
Ex-istence it is; it must thus, by its own nature, as opposed
to another and an absolute existence, annihilate itself:
which is precisely the character of mere representation,
conception, or Consciousness of Being, as you have already
seen in our exposition of the " is." And thus it is clear,
if we have succeeded in making these ideas thoroughly
intelligible to you, that the Ex-istence of Being must
necessarily be cannot be other than a Consciousness
of itself of Ex-istence as a mere image or representa
tion of Absolute, Self-existent Being.

That such is the case, and that Knowledge* or Conscious
ness is the absolute Ex-istence (Daseyn), or, as you may
now rather wish to say, the manifestation and revelation
of Being (Seyn), in its only possible form : this may be
distinctly understood and seen by Knowledge itself, as
we all, I assume, have now seen it. But and this is our
fifth point this Knowledge can, by no means, in itself,
understand or see how itself arises, and how from out the
inward, self-comprehending Being (Seyii) an Ex-istence
(Daseyn), manifestation or revelation of itself can pro
ceed ; as indeed we have expressly seen when dealing

* The reader will observe that in this and the succeeding lectures the
word " Wissen," which is here rendered by " Knowledge," is used in the
sense of " Cognition," to express the conscious act of Knowing, and not
either the object or the result of that act. Tr.

LECTURE III. 343

with our third point, that such a sequential evolution
lies wholly beyond our view. The reason of this is, that
Ex-istence, as we have already shown, cannot le with
out apprehending, recognising, and assuming itself, be
cause such self-conception is inseparable from its nature ;
and thus Knowledge, by the very absoluteness of its Ex
istence, and its dependence on that Ex-istence, is cut off J
from all possibility of passing beyond it, or of conceiving
and tracing itself prior to that Ex-istence. It is, for itself
and in itself, and so far well ; but wherever it is, it finds
itself already there in a certain determinate mode, which
it must accept just as it is presented to it, but which it
can by no means explain, nor declare how and whereby it
has become so. This unchangeably determined mode of
the Ex-istence of Knowledge, which can be apprehended
only by immediate comprehension and perception, is the
essential arid truly real Life of Knowledge.

But notwithstanding that this true and real Lifeof Know
ledge cannot explain the definite mode in which it has
arisen, it is yet susceptible of a general interpretation ; and
we may understand and perceive with absolute certainty
what it is according to its essential inward nature; which is
our sixth point. I lead you to this insight thus: What we
set forth above as our fourth point, that Ex-istence is
necessarily Consciousness and all that is involved in that
principle, follows from mere Ex-istence as such, and the con
ception of such Ex-istence. Now, this Ex-istence (Daseyn)
itself is, resting and reposing on itself alone; prior to any
conception of itself, and inseparable from every such con
ception, as we have just proved; and this its being, its
reality, which can only be immediately perceived, we have
called its Life. Whence has it then this being, so com
pletely independent of anything arising from its concep
tion of itself, nay, rather preceding that conception,
and first rendering it possible? We have said: It is
the living- and efficient Ex-istence of the Absolute itself

344 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

which alone has power to lie and to exist, and beside
which nothing is, nor truly exists. Now, as the Absolute
can be only through itself, so also can it exist only through
itself; and as it, in its very self, and nothing else in its
stead, must exist, since indeed nothing out of it has
power either to be or to exist, so does it exist even as it is
in itself, complete, undivided, without diminution, without
variableness or change, as Absolute Unity, as it is in its
own inward and essential nature. Thus the actual Life
of Knowledge i, at bottom, the essential Being of the
Absolute itself and nothing else ; and between the Abso
lute or God, and Knowledge in its deepest roots, there is
no separation or distinction, but both merge completely
into one.

And thus we have already attained a point from which
our previous propositions become clearer, and light spreads
over our future way. That any living Ex-istence should be
wholly cut off from God, all living Ex-istence, as we have
seen, being necessarily Life and Consciousness, and the dead
and unconscious having no place in Ex-istence, that any
living Ex-istence should be wholly cut off from God, is al
ready guarded against, and is absolutely impossible ; for
only through the Ex-istence of God in it is it maintained
in Ex-istence, and were it possible that God should
disappear from within it, then would it thereby itself
disappear from Ex-istence. In the lower grades of spirit
ual life, this Divine Ex-istence is seen only through
obscure coverings, and amid confused phantasmagoria,
derived from the organ of the spiritual sense through
which man looks upon himself and upon Being ; but to
gaze upon it bright and unveiled, as indeed the Divine
Life and Ex-istence, and to bathe our whole being in this
Life with full enjoyment and love, this is the True
and unspeakably Blessed Life.

It is ever, we said, the Ex-istence (Daseyii] of the
Absolute and Divine Being (Seyn) that "is" (ex-ists)

LECTURE III. 345

in all Life ; by which expression " all Life," we here
mean the universal Life according to the law spoken
of at the beginning of this lecture, which in this respect
cannot be otherwise than as it is. In the lower grades
of the spiritual life of man, however, that Divine Being
(Seyn), as such, does not reveal itself to Consciousness ;
but in the true central-point of spiritual life, that Divine
Being, in its own express nature, does reveal itself to
Consciousness ; as, for example, I assume that it has re
vealed itself to us. Now, that it reveals itself as such
to Consciousness, can mean nothing else than that it
assumes the form which we have already seen to be the
necessary form of Ex-istence and Consciousness, that,
namely, of an image, representation, or conception, which
gives itself out only as a conception, and not by any means
as the thing itself. Immediately, in its true essential na
ture, and without any image or representation, it is at all
times present in the actual life of man, only unperceived ;
and it continues there present as before, after it has been
perceived ; only it is then, besides, recognised in an image
or representation. This representative form is the essential
nature of Thought; and in particular the Thought we are
here considering bears, in its sufficiency for its own support
and confirmation (which we call its internal evidence), the
character of Absoluteness ; and thereby approves itself as
pure, true, and absolute Thought. And thus it is made
evident on all sides, that only in pure Thought can our
union with God be recognised.

We have already said, but must yet again expressly in
culcate it upon you, and commend it to your earnest atten
tion, that as Being (Seyn) is One and not Manifold, and as
it is at once complete in itself, without variation or change,
and thus an essential and absolute Unity, so also is Ex
istence (Daseyn) or Consciousness since it only exists
through Being, and is only the Ex-istence of Being,
likewise an absolute, eternal, invariable, and unchanging

x a

34-G THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

Unity. So it is, with absolute necessity, in itself;
and so it remains in pure Thought. There is nothing
whatever in Ex-istence but immediate and living Thought:
Thought, I say, but by no means a thinking substance,
a dead body in which thought inheres, with which no-
thought, indeed a ?io-thinker is full surely at hand :
Thought, I say, and also the real Life of this Thought,
which at bottom is the Divine Life ; both of which
Thought and this its real Life are molten together
into one inward organic Unity ; like as, outwardly, they
are one simple, identical, eternal, unchangeable Unity.
Nevertheless, opposed to this latter outward Unity, there
arises in Thought the appearance of a Manifold, partly be
cause there are many thinking subjects, and partly on ac
count of the infinite series of objects upon which the
thought of these subjects must eternally proceed. This
appearance arises even to pure Thought and the Blessed
Life in it, and Thought itself cannot forbid the presence
of this appearance; but in no way does pure Thought
believe in this appearance, nor love it, nor attempt to
find enjoyment in it. On the other hand, the lower
life, in all its inferior grades, believes in every appear
ance of this Manifold and in the Manifold itself, runs
forth in vagrant dissipation upon this Manifold and seeks
in it for peace and enjoyment of itself, which neverthe
less it will never find in that way. This remark may,
in the first place, explain the picture which we drew in
our first lecture of the True Life and the Apparent Life.
To the outward eye, these two opposite modes of Life
closely resemble each other; both proceed upon the same
common objects, which are perceived by both in the
same way; inwardly, however, they are very different.
The True Life does not even believe in the reality of this
Manifold and Changeable ; it believes only in its own
unchangeable and eternal source in the Divine Unity ; -
with all its thought, its love, its obedience, its self-enjoy-

LECTURE III. 3^

ment, for ever lost in and blended with that Unity : the
Apparent Life, on the contrary, neither knows nor compre
hends any Unity whatsoever, but even regards the Mani
fold and Perishable as the true being, and is satisfied with
it as such. In the second place, this remark imposes upon
us the task of setting forth the true ground why that which,
according to our doctrine, is in itself absolutely One, and
remains One in True Life and Thought, does nevertheless
in an appearance, which we must yet admit to be permanent
and indestructible, become transmuted into a Manifold and
Changeable; the true ground of this transmutation, I say,
we must at least set forth, and distinctly announce to you,
although the clear demonstration of it may be inaccessible
to popular communication. The exposition of this ground
of the Manifold and Changeable, with the farther appli
cation of what we have said to-day, shall form the sub
ject of our next discourse, to which I now respectfully
invite you.

( 349 )

LECTURE IV.

CONDITIONS OF THE BLESSED LIFE: DOCTRINE OF
BEING: MANIFESTATION OF THE ONE DIVINE
BEING IN CONSCIOUSNESS AS A MANIFOLD
EXISTENCE, OR WORLD.

LET us begin the business of to-day with a survey of our
purpose in these discourses, as well as of what has now
been accomplished for that purpose.

My position is this: Man is not destined to misery, but
he may be a partaker in peace, tranquillity, and Blessed
ness, here below, everywhere, and for ever, if he but will to
be so. This Blessedness, however, cannot be superadded
to him by any outward power, nor by any miracle of an
outward power ; he must lay hold of it for himself, and
with his own hands. The source of all misery among men
is their vagrancy in the Manifold and Changeable ; the
sole and absolute condition of the Blessed Life is the ap
prehension of the One Eternal Life with inward love and
enjoyment ; although we indeed apprehend this Unity
only in a picture or representation, and cannot in reality
ourselves attain to or transform ourselves into it.

The proposition which we have thus laid down, I would
now, in the first place, bring home to your minds in clear
insight, and thoroughly convince you of its truth. We here

350 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

aim at instruction and enlightenment, which alone have en
during value; not at a mere fugitive emotion or awakening
of the fancy, which for the most part passes away without
leaving a trace behind it. For the attainment of this clear
insight, which we here strive to reach, the following steps
are indispensably requisite: First, that we should conceive
of Being (Seyri) as absolutely by and through itself alone,
as One, invariable, and unchangeable. This conception of
Being is by no means an exclusive possession of the schools;
but every Christian who in his childhood has received a
sound religious education has even then, in the Christian
Doctrine of the Divine Nature, become acquainted with our
conception of being. Secondly, another requisite for this in
sight is the conception that we, the thinking beings, with
respect to what we are in ourselves, are by no means this
Absolute Being; but that we are nevertheless, in the inner
most root of our existence, inseparably connected with it,
since otherwise we should have no power to exist at all.
Now, this latter conception may be more or less clear,
particularly in regard to the mode of our relation to
the Godhead. This conception we have set forth in the
greatest clearness with which, in our opinion, it can be
invested in a popular discourse, thus : Besides God,
there is truly and in the proper sense of the word no
other Ex-istence whatever but Knowledge : and this
Knowledge is the Divine Ex-istence (Daseyn) itself, ab
solutely and immediately ; and, in so far as we are this
Knowledge, we are ourselves, in the deepest root of our
being, the Divine Ex-istence. All other things that
appear to us as Ex-istences outward objects, bodies,
souls, we ourselves in so far as we ascribe to ourselves a
separate and independent Being do not truly and in
themselves exist; but they exist only in Consciousness and
Thought, as that of which we are conscious, or of which we
think, and in no other way whatever. This, I say, is the
clearest expression by which, in my opinion, this conception

LECTURE IV. 351

can be popularly communicated to men. But should any
one be unable to understand even this expression, yea,,
should he even be unable to apprehend or conceive anything
whatever regarding the mode of this relation, yet would he
not thereby be excluded from the Blessed Life, nor even
hindered in any way from entering upon it. On the other
hand, according to my absolute conviction, the following
are indispensable requisites to the attainment of the
Blessed Life :(!.) That we should have fixed principles
and convictions respecting God arid our relation to him,
which do not merely float in our memory, without our par
taking of them, as something we have learned from others;
but which are really true to us, living and active in our
selves. For even in this does Religion consist : and he
who does not possess such principles, in such a way, has no
Religion, and therefore no Being, nor Ex-istence. nor true
Self at all; but he passes away, like a shadow, amid the
Manifold and Perishable. (2.) Another requisite to the
Blessed Life is that this living Religion within us should
at least go so far as to convince us entirely of our own
Nothingness in ourselves, and of our Being only in God
and through God ; that we should at least /ee^ this rela
tionship continually and without interruption ; and that,
even although it should not be distinctly expressed either
in thought or language, ifc should yet be the secret spring,
the hidden principle, of all our thoughts, feelings, emo
tions, and aspirations. That these things are indispen
sable requisites to a Blessed Life, is, I say, my absolute
conviction ; and this conviction is here set forth for the
benefit of those who already assume the possibility of a
Blessed Life, who stand in need of it, or of confirmation
in it, and who therefore desire to receive guidance in
the way towards it. Notwithstanding this, we can not
only frankly admit that a man may make shift without
Religion, without True Ex-istence, without inward peace
and Blessedness, and assure himself of coming off well

352 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

enough without these, as indeed may be true ; but we
are also ready freely to concede to such a man all possi
ble honour and merit which, without Religion, he may
be able to acquire. We embrace this opportunity, frankly
to confess that, neither in the speculative nor in the
popular form of our doctrine, can we constrain any man,
or force our convictions upon him ; nor would we wish to
do so even if we could.

The definitive result of our former lecture, which we in
tend to follow out to-day, was this : God not only is, in
himself and contained within himself, but he also ex-ists,
and manifests himself; and this his immediate Ex-istence
(Dascyn) is necessarily Knowledge : this latter necessity
being seen and apprehended in Knowledge itself. In this
his Existence (Daseyii) he ex-ists, as is also necessary and
may in like manner be seen to be necessary, he ex-ists, I
say, as he is absolutely in himself, in his own Being (Seyri),
without changing in aught by his passage from Being (Seyri)
to Ex-istence (Daseyn), without any intervening division
or other separation between these two states. God is in
himself One and not Many ; ho is in himself identical,
the same, without change or variation ; he ex-ists precisely
as he is in himself, and therefore he necessarily ex-ists as
One, without change or variation ; and as Knowledge, or
we ourselves, are this Divine Ex-istence, so also in us, in so
far as we are this Divine Ex-isteuce, there can be no varia
tion or change, neither multiplicity nor variety, neither
i division, difference, nor opposition. So must it be, and
otherwise it cannot be : therefore it is so.

But in Eeality we nevertheless find this multiplicity and
variety, these divisions, differences, and oppositions of Being,
and in Being, which in Thought are clearly seen to be ab
solutely impossible; and hence arises the task of reconciling
this contradiction between our perceptions of Reality and
pure Thought; of showing how these opposing judgments
may consist with each other, and so both prove true; and,

LECTURE IV. 353

in particular, of solving this problem by making it clearly
evident whence, and from what principles, this Multiplicity
arises in the simple Unity of Being.

In the first place, and before everything else, let us ask :
Who is it that raises the question as to the source of the
Manifold, and seeks such an insight into this source as may
enable him to see the Manifold in its first outgoings, and
thus obtain a knowledge of the mode of the transition ? It
is not firm and unwavering Faith. Faith briefly disposes
of the matter thus : " There is absolutely but the One,
Unchangeable and Eternal, and nothing besides Him ;
hence all that is fleeting and changeable full surely is
not, and its seeming appearance is but an empty show;
this I know, whether I can explain this appearance or
not; my assurance is neither strengthened in the one
case, nor weakened in the other." This Faith reposes
immovably in the fact of its insight, without feeling the
want of the mode; it is content with the "That" with
out asking for the " How." Thus, for example, in the
Gospel of John, Christianity does not answer this ques
tion at all ; it does not even once touch it, or only wonders
at the presence of the Perishable, having this firm Faith
and assurance that only the One is, and that the Perish
able is not. And thus any one amongst us who is a
partaker in this Faith does not raise the question ;
hence he does not need our answer to it, and it may even
be a matter of indifference to him, as regards the Blessed
Life, whether he comprehend our answer to it or not.

But this question is raised by those who have hitherto
either believed only in the Manifold and have never risen
even to a presentiment of the One, or else have wandered
to and fro between both views, uncertain in which of the
two they should establish themselves and which reject al
together; and these can only by means of an answer to this
question attain the insight which is necessary to the de
velopment of the Blessed Life. For such I must answer

y a

354 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

the question, and for them it is necessary that they should
comprehend my answer.

Thus then stands the matter : In so far as the Divine
Ex-istence (Daseyii} is immediately its own living, and
efficient Ex-isting (^aseyeH), ex-isting, I say, indicating
thereby an act of Ex-istence, it is wholly like to the in
ward essential Being (Seyri), and is therefore an invariable,
unchanging Unity, altogether incapable of Multiplicity.

Hence the principle of opposition cannot (I have here,

be it remembered, a double purpose : partly to present to
some of you, for the first time and in a popular way, the
Knowledge in question; partly, for others among you who
have already acquired this Knowledge in the scientific way,
to combine into one single beam and centre of light that
which they have formerly seen in separate individual rays;
and I therefore now express myself with the strictest pre
cision), the principle of opposition, I say, cannot fall im
mediately within this act of the Divine Ex-istence, but must
lie beyond it; but this, however, in such wise that the out
ward opposition shall be evident as immediately connected
with the living act and necessarily flowing from it ; not by
any means as establishing an interval between God and
us, and so irrevocably excluding us from him. I conduct
you to an insight into this principle of Multiplicity thus:
1. Whatever the Absolute Being (Seyn) or God is, that
he is wholly and immediately by and through himself;
among other things, he ex-ists, manifests and reveals him
self ; thus he is also this Ex-istence (Daseyn}, and here
is the important point, thus he is also this Ex-istence
by and through himself, and only in his immediate and
self-subsistent Being, that is, in immediate Life and
reality. In this his act of Ex-istence he is present
with his whole power of ex-isting ; and only in this, his
efficient and living act, does his immediate Ex-istence
consist: and in this respect it is complete, one and
unchangeable.

LECTURE IV. 3--

2. Being (%) and Ex-istence (Daseyn) are here wholly
blended together and lost in each other ; for to his Beinc,
by and through himself, his Ex-istence belongs, and can
have no other foundation or source whatever; while on the
other hand, to his Ex-istence belongs everything that ap
pertains to his inward and essential Being or Nature The
whole distinction, set forth in our former lecture, between
Being (Seyn) and Ex-istence (Daseyn), and their indepen
dence of each other, is thus seen to be only for us and
only a result of our limitation ; and by no means to have
any place, immediately and of itself, in the Divine Ex
istence.

3. I said further, in the preceding lecture, that in and to
mere Ex-istence itself, Being (Seyn) cannot be blended with
Ex-istence (Daseyn), but that they must be distinguished
from each other; so that Being maybe apprehended as
Being, and the Absolute as Absolute. This distinction
this "as," this characterization of the elements to be
distinguished, is in itself an absolute division, and the
principle of all subsequent division and multiplicity, as
may be shortly made evident to you in the following
way :

(a.) In the first place, the " as" or characterization
of the two elements, does not immediately give
their Being (Seyn) ; i t g i ves on ] v whaf th( T }r ^
i.e. their description and character ; it gives them
in representation, and indeed gives a mixed picture
or representation of both, in which they reciprocally
interpenetrate and determine each other, since the
one can be apprehended and characterized only by
means of the other, as not being that which the
other is; the other again being distinguished as
not being that which the former is. In this dis
tinction we have the genesis of Knowledge and
Consciousness; or, what is the same thing, represen
tation, description, and characterization, mediate

356 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

perception and recognition by means of character
and sign ; and in this distinction lies the peculiar
and fundamental principle of Knowledge. It is
purely a relation : a relation of two things, how
ever, does not lie wholly in either the one or the
other, but between the two; it is a third element,
as is shown in the peculiar nature of Knowledge as
something wholly distinct from Being.

(/>.) This distinction occurs in Ex-istence (D(tseyn)
itself and proceeds from it; and as the distinction does
not embrace its object immediately, but only the form
and character of the object, so Ex-istence does not ap
prehend itself immediately in this distinction, that is,
in Consciousness, but only a picture or representa
tion of itself. It does not conceive of itself imme
diately as it is ; but it conceives of itself only within
the limitations which are set to conception by the
absolute nature of conception itself. Popularly ex
pressed, this is the following : We conceive of our
selves only in part, and that not as we really are
in ourselves; and the cause that we do not conceive
of the Absolute does not lie in the Absolute itself,
but in the conception which cannot even conceive
of itself. Were it able to conceive of itself, then
would it be able to conceive of the Absolute, for in
its own Being, beyond the limitations of conception,
it is itself the Absolute.

(c.) Thus it is in Consciousness, as a distinction,
that the primitive essence of the Divine Being and
Ex-istence suffers a change. What then is the one
absolute and invariable character of this change ?

Consider the following : Knowledge, as a distinc
tion, is a characterization of the thing distinguished;
every characterization, however, is in itself an assump
tion of the fixed and abiding Being and Presence of
that which is characterized. Thus, by the act of con-

LECTURE IV. 357

ception, that which in itself is the immediate living
Divine Life, and which we have previously so de
scribed, becomes a present and abiding substance :

the schools would add, an objective substance, but this
arises from the other and not the reverse. Thus, it is
the living Divine Life that is changed ; and a present
and abiding substance is the form which it assumes in
that change; in other words, the change of immedi
ate Life into a present and abiding substance is the
fundamental character of that change which is im
posed upon Ex-istence by Consciousness. This abiding
Presence is the characteristic of that which we call the
World; hence Consciousness is the true World-creator, (/
by means of the change of the Divine Life into a
present substance which is involved in the essential
character of conception ; and only to consciousness
and in consciousness is there a World, as the neces
sary form of Life in Consciousness ; but beyond
conception, that is, truly and in itself, there is
nothing, and in all Eternity there can be nothing,
but the Living God in his own fulness of Life.

(<L) The World is thus manifest, in its fundamen
tal character, as proceeding from consciousness ; and
this consciousness again is nothing but the " as,"
the characterization of the Divine Being and Ex
istence. But does not this World in conception,
and the conception of it, assume again a new form ?
I mean necessarily so, and with a necessity that
may be made manifest ?

In order to answer this question, consider with
me the following : Ex-istence (Daseyn) apprehends
itself, as I said above, only in representation, and
with a character distinguishing it from Being (Seyn).
This it does solely of and through itself and by its
own power; and this power of self- observation is
manifest in all concentration, attention, and direc-

358 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

tion of thought to a particular object ; in the lan
guage of science this independent self-apprehension
of consciousness is named reflexion, and thus we
shall in future name it. This direction of the power
of Ex-istence and Consciousness arises from the
necessity for an " as," a characterization of Ex
istence ; and this necessity rests immediately on
God s living act of Ex-istence. The foundation of
the independence and freedom of Consciousness is in
deed in God; but even on that account, because it is in
God, do that independence and freedom truly exist,
and are not an empty show. Through his own Ex
istence, and by its essential nature, God throws out
from himself a part of his Ex-istence, that is, such
part of it as becomes self-consciousness, and estab
lishes it in true independence and freedom : which
point, as that which solves the latest and deepest
error of speculation, I would not here pass over.

Ex-istence apprehends itself by its own indepen
dent power: this was the first thing to which I wished
to draw your attention here. What then arises in this
apprehension ? This is the second thing to which I
now desire to direct your thoughts. As soon as it
distinctly looks upon itself, in its own present exist
ence, there arises immediately, in thus turning its at
tention forcibly upon itself, the perception that it is
this or that, that it bears this or that character; and
thus here is the general expression of the result
which I entreat you to notice thus, in reflexion upon
itself, does Knowledge, by itself and in virtue of its
own nature, give birth to a division in itself; since in
this act there is apparent to Knowledge, not only
Knowledge itself, which would be one, but, at the
same time, Knowledge as this or that, with this or
that character or attribute, which adds a second ele
ment to the first, and that one arising from the first ;

LECTURE IV. 359

so that the very foundation of reflexion is thus
divided into two separate parts. This is the essen- )
tial and fundamental law of reflexion.

(e.) Now the first and immediate object of absolute
reflexion is Ex-istence itself; which, according to the
necessary form of Knowledge, as before explained, has
been changed from a living Life into an abiding sub
stance or World : thus the first object of absolute
reflexion is the World. By reason of the essential
form of reflexion which we have just set forth, this
World must separate and divide itself in reflexion; so
that the World, or the abiding Ex-istence in the
abstract, may assumo a definite character, and the ab
stract World reproduce itself in reflexion under a par
ticular shape. This, as we said, lies in reflexion it
self as such; reflexion, however, as we have also said,
is in itself absolutely free and independent. Hence/ 7
were this reflexion inactive, were there nothing re
flected, as in consequence of this freedom might be
the case, then there would be nothing apparent; but
were reflexion infinitely active, were there an endless
series of its acts, reflexion upon reflexion, as
through this freedom might as well be the case,
then to every new reflexion the World would appear
in a new shape, and thus proceed throughout an
Infinite Time, (which is likewise created only by the
absolute freedom of reflexion,) in an endless course
of change and transmutation, as an Infinite Mani
fold. As Consciousness in the abstract was seen to 1
be the World-creator ; so here, the free act of reflexion
is seen to be the creator of Multiplicity, and indeed
of an infinite Multiplicity, in the World ; while the
World, nevertheless, notwithstanding this Multipli
city, remains the same, because the abstract con
ception in its fundamental character remains One
and the same.

360 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

(f.) And now to combine what we have said into
one view ; Consciousness, that is we ourselves, is
the Divine Ex-istence (Daseyri) itself, and absolutely
one with it. This Divine Ex-istence apprehends it
self and thereby becomes Consciousness; and its own
Being (Seyn) the true Divine Being becomes a
World to it. In this position what does this Con
sciousness contain? I think each of you will answer:
" The World and nothing but the World." Or does
this Consciousness also contain the immediate Divine
Life ? I think each of you will answer : " No ; " for
Consciousness must necessarily change this immediate
Divine Life into a World ; and thus, Consciousness
being supposed, this change is also supposed as
accomplished ; and Consciousness itself is, by its very
nature, and therefore without being again conscious
of it, the direct completion of this change. But
now, where is that immediate Divine Life which,
in its immediateness, is itself Consciousness; where
has it vanished, since, according to our own admis
sions, rendered clearly necessary by our previous
conclusions, in this its immediateness it is irrevoc
ably effaced from Consciousness ? We reply : It has
not vanished, but it is and abides there, where alone
it can be, in the hidden and inaccessible Being (Seyn)
of Consciousness, which no conception can reach ;
in that which alone supports Consciousness, main
tains it in Ex-istence, and even makes its Ex-istence
N possible. In Consciousness the Divine Life is inevit-
-J ably changed into an actual and abiding World :
further, every actual Consciousness is an act of re
flexion ; the act of reflexion, however, inevitably di
vides the One World into an infinite variety of shapes,
the comprehension of which can never be completed,
and of which therefore only a finite series enters into
Consciousness. I ask : Where then abides the One

LECTURE IV.

World, in itself perfect and complete, .the counter
part and representative of the likewise perfect and
complete Divine Life ? I answer : It abides there
where alone it is,-not in any individual act of
reflexion, but in the one, absolute, fundamental
form of conception ; which thou canst never repro
duce in actual, immediate Consciousness, but only in
Thought raising itself above Consciousness ; just as
thou canst likewise reproduce in the same Thought
the still farther removed and more deeply hidden
Divine Life. Where then,-in this stream of actual
reflexion, and its world-creation, flowing on for ever
through ceaseless changes, where then abides the
One, Eternal and Unchangeable Being (Seyn} of
Consciousness which is manifested in the Divine
Ex-istence (Daseyn] ? It does not enter into this
stream of change, but only its type, image, or re
presentation, enters therein.

As thy physical eye is a prism in which the light
of the sensuous world, which in itself is pure, simple
and colourless, breaks itself upon the surfaces of
things into many hues, while nevertheless thou wilt
not maintain on that account that the light is in it
self coloured, but only that, to thine eye, and while
standing with thine eye in this state of reciprocal in
fluence, it separates itself into colours, although
thou still canst not see the light colourless, but canst
only think it colourless; to which thought alone thou
givest credence when the nature of thy seeing eye
becomes known to thee : so also proceed in the
things of the spiritual world and with the vision of
thy spiritual eye. What thou seest, that thou art :
but thou art it not as thou seest it, nor dost thou see
it as thou art it. Thou art itj unchangeable and pure,
without colour and without shape. Only reflexion,
which likewise thou thyself art, and which therefore

z a

362 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

thou canst never put away from tliee, only this causes
it to separate before thee into innumerable rays and
shapes. Know therefore that it is not in itself thus
broken up, and formed, and invested with a multi
plicity of shapes, but that it only seems so in this thy
reflexion, thy spiritual eye, by which alone thou canst
see, and in reciprocal influence with this reflexion.
Raise thyself above this Appearance, which in Re
ality can as little be obliterated as the colours from
before thy physical eye, raise thyself above this
Appearance to true Thought, let thyself be pene
trated by it, and thou wilt henceforward have faith
in it alone.

So much as has now been said may, in my opinion, be
contributed through the medium of a popular discourse
to the solution of the question: Whence, since Being in
itself must be absolutely One, without change or variation,
and is evident to Thought as such, whence arises the
mutability and change which is nevertheless encountered
by actual Consciousness? Being, in itself, is indeed One,
the One Divine Being; and this alone is the true Re
ality in all Ex-istence, and so remains in all Eternity.
By reflexion, which in actual Consciousness is indisso-
lubly united with Being, this One Being is broken up
into an infinite variety of forms. This separation, as
we said, is absolutely original, and in actual Conscious
ness can never be abolished nor superseded by anything
else ; and therefore the special forms which by this
separation are imposed upon absolute Reality, can sub
sist and become manifest only in actual Consciousness,
and only by close observation of Consciousness ; and
they are by no means discoverable a priori to pure
Thought. They are simple and absolute Experience,
which is nothing but Experience; which no Speculation
that understands itself will ever attempt or desire to
set aside ; and in each particular thing the substance

LECTU11K IV. 8G3

of this Experience is that which absolutely belongs
to ^it alone and is its individual characteristic, that
which in the whole infinite course of Time can never
be repeated, and which can never before have occurred.
But the general properties or attributes of these forms
which are thus imposed upon the One Reality by its
separation in Consciousness, with reference to which
attributes corresponding classes and species arise, these
may be discovered by a priori investigation of the dif
ferent laws of reflexion, as we have already set forth
its one fundamental law ; and a systematic philosophy
ought to do this, and must do it, in a complete and
exhaustive manner. Thus may Matter in Space, Time,
-a fixed system of Worlds, how the substance of
Consciousness, which in itself can be but One, divides
itself into a system of separate and apparently indepen
dent individuals, thus, I say, may these and all things
of this kind, be deduced with perfect clearness from the
laws of reflexion. But these investigations are more
needful to the attainment of a fundamental insight into
particular Sciences than to the development of a Blessed
Life. They belong to the scientific teaching of Philoso
phy as its exclusive property ; and they are neither sus
ceptible of popular exposition nor do they stand in need
of it. Here, therefore, at this indicated point, lies the
boundary line which divides strict Science from popular
teaching. We have, as you see, arrived at that limit;
and it may therefore be anticipated that our inquiry
shall now gradually descend to those regions which, at
least with respect to their objects, are familiar to us, and
which we have even sometimes touched upon already.

Besides the division, which we have set forth in to-day s
lecture, of the World which arises in Consciousness from
out the Divine Life, into a World of infinite variety and
change with reference to its form, by means of the fun
damental law of reflexion : there is vet another division,

364 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

inseparably bound up with the first, of the same World, not
into an Infinite but into a Five-fold form, with reference to
the possible modes of viewing it. We must set forth this
second division, at least historically, and make you ac
quainted with it, which shall be done in our next lecture.
It is only after these preparatory investigations that we
shall be capable of comprehending for the first time the
essential nature, as well as the outward manifestations,
of the truly Blessed Life ; arid, after we have so compre
hended it, of seeing clearly that there is indeed true
Blessedness within it, and what that Blessedness is.

( 365 )

LECTUEE V.

FIVE-FOLD DIVISION IN THE POSSIBLE VIEW OF THE
WORLD : THE STANDPOINTS OF SENSE, OF
LEGALITY, OF THE HIGHER MORALITY,
OF RELIGION, OF SCIENCE.

ACCORDING to what we have now seen, Blessedness con-
sists in union with God, as the One and Absolute. We,
however, in our unalterable nature, are but Knowledge,
Representation, Conception ; and even in our union with
the Infinite One, this, the essential form of our Being,
cannot disappear. Even in our union with him he
does not become our own Being ; but he floats before us
as something foreign to, and outside of, ourselves, to
which we can only devote ourselves, clinging to him with
earnest love ; He floats before us, as in himself without
form or substance, without, on our part, a definite concep
tion or knowledge of his inward essential nature, but yet
as that through which alone we can think or comprehend
either ourselves or our World. Neither after our union,
with God is the World lost to us ; it only assumes a new
significance, and, instead of an independent existence
such as it seemed to us before, it becomes only the ap
pearance and manifestation, in Knowledge, of the Divine
Life that lies hidden within itself. Comprehend this
once more as a whole : The Divine Ex-istence (Daseyn),

SGG THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION,

Ins Ex-istence, I say, which, according to the distinction
already laid down, is his Manifestation and Revelation
of himself, is absolutely through itself, and of necessity,
LIGHT : namely, inward and spiritual Light. This Light,
left to itself, separates and divides itself into an infinite
multiplicity of individual rays; and in this way, in these
individual rays, becomes estranged from itself and its
original source. But this same Light may also again
concentrate itself from out this separation, and conceive
and comprehend itself as One, as that which it is in it
self, the Ex-istence and Revelation of God ; remaining
indeed, even in this conception, that which it is in its
form, Light ; but yet in this conception, and even by
means of this very conception, announcing itself as hav
ing no real Being in itself, but as only the Ex-istence and
Self-Manifestation of God.

In our last two lectures, and more especially in the last
of all, we made it our especial business to investigate this
passage of the One, only possible, and unchangeable Being
into another, and that other a manifold and changeable
Being : so that we might be enabled to penetrate to the
very transition-point of this change, and see its outgoing
/with our own eyes. We found the following : In the first
place, through the essential character of Knowledge, as a
mere picture or representation, Being, which subsists in
dependently of that Knowledge, and which in itself and
in God is pure activity and Life, is changed into a de
terminate and abiding being, or into a World. In the
second place, besides this distinction, the World which, to
mere abstract Knowledge, is simple and indivisible, is, by
the fundamental law of reflexion, which is inseparable
from all actual Knowledge, further characterized, formed,
and moulded into a particular World, and indeed into an
infinitely varied World, flowing onward in a never-ending
\strearn of new and changing forms. The insight thus
to be attained was, in our opinion, indispensably neces-

LECTURE V. 367

sary not only to Philosophy but also to Blessedness ; at
least where the latter dwells in man, not as a mere in
stinct or obscure faith, but desires to be able to render an
account to itself of its own origin and foundation.

Thus far we had proceeded in our last lecture ; and we
intimated at its conclusion, that with this division of the
World into an infinite multiplicity of forms, founded on a
fundamental law of all reflexion, there was inseparably con
nected another division which we should, at this time, if
not critically educe, at least historically set forth and de
scribe. I do not here approach this new and second division,
in its general character, more deeply than thus. In the
first place, in its essential nature, it is different from the
division which we set forth in our last lecture and have
now again described, in so far as the latter immediately
separates and divides the World itself which, in virtue of
the essential form of Knowledge, arises from out the
Divine Life ; while, on the contrary, that which we have
now to consider does not immediately separate and divide
the object itself, but only separates and divides reflexion
on the object. The one is a separation and division in the
object itself; the other is but a separation and division in
the view taken of the object, not, as in the former case, re
vealing to us objects different in themselves, but only dif
ferent modes of viewing, apprehending, and understanding
the one abiding World. In the second place, it is not to
be forgotten that neither of these two divisions can assume
the place of the other, and that therefore they cannot sup
plant or supersede each other; but that they are insepar
able, and are therefore to be found together wherever re
flexion, whose unchangeable forms they are, is to be found ;
and that therefore the results of both inseparably ac
company each other and always proceed hand in hand.
The result of the first division is, as we have shown in our
previous lecture, Infinitude; the result of the second is,
as we also stated, a Quintitude; and therefore the result

368 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

of the inseparability of these two divisions is this, that
this Infinity, which in itself remains entire and cannot
be thrown off, may yet be regarded in a Five-fold man
ner ; and on the other hand, that each of the five possible
views so taken of the World again divides the One World
into an Infinite multiplicity of forms. And thus you
may comprehend what we have now said in a single
glance : To the spiritual vision, that which in itself is
the Divine Life becomes a thing seen, that is, a complete
and present Ex-istence, or a World : which was the first
point. This vision is always an act, named reflexion;
and by means of this act, partly as relating to its object,
the World, and partly as relating to itself, that World is
divided into an infinite Quintentity, or, what is the same
thing, into a five-fold Infinity : which was the second
point. In order that we may, in the next place, proceed
to the consideration of the second of these divisions,
which is the proper object of to-day s lecture, let us now
make, with regard to it, the following general remarks :
This division, as we have said, presents no distinction in
the object itself, but only a distinction, difference, and va
riety, in the view taken of the object. It seems to force
itself upon the mind that this difference, not in the object
itself but only in the view taken of the object the object
itself meanwhile remaining the same can arise only from
the obscurity or clearness, the depth or shallowness, the
completeness or incompleteness of the view thus taken of
the one unchanging World. And this is certainly the case:
or, to connect this with something that I said before, il
lustrating the one expression by the other, and thus render
ing both more intelligible, the five modes of viewing the
World, now spoken of, are the same as those progressions
which, in the third lecture, I named the various possible
stages and grades of development of the inward Spiritual
Life, when I said that the progress of this free and con
scious Spiritual Life, which in a peculiar sense belongs to

LECTURE V. 3(59

us, follows the same course as the progress of Physical
Death, and that the former as well as the latter begins in
the remotest members, and thence only gradually advances
to the central-point of the system. What I named the
outworks of the Spiritual Life, in the figure which I then
employed, are, in our present representation of the matter,
the lowest, darkest, and shallowest of the five possible
modes of viewing the World ; what I then named the
nobler parts, and the heart, are here the higher and clearer,
and the highest and clearest, of these modes.

But notwithstanding that, according to our former simile
as well as our present representation, it is only after he
has rested for a time in a low view of the World and its
significance, that Man, in the ordinary course of life and
according to general law, raises himself to a higher ; yet,
in the first place, it is not on that account to be denied,
but on the contrary to be expressly held and maintained,
that this manifold view of the World is a true and original
distinction, at least in the capacities possessed by men of
comprehending the World. Understand me thus : those
higher views of the World have not their origin in Time,
nor so that they are first engendered and made possible
by views wholly opposed to them ; but they subsist from
all Eternity in the unity of the Divine Existence, as ne- j
cessary determinations of the One Consciousness, even 1
although no man should comprehend them ; and no one
who does comprehend them can invent them, or produce
them by mere thought, but he can only perceive them, and
appropriate them to himself. In the second place, this
gradual progress is only the ordinary course of things, and
only the general law, which however is by no means
without exception. Some favoured and inspired men find
themselves, as it were by miracle, without their own know
ledge and through mere birth and instinct, placed at once
on a higher standpoint from which to survey the World ;
and these are as little understood by those around them,

al

370 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

as they, on their part, are able to understand their con
temporaries. Thus it has been, since the beginning of
the world, with all Religious Men, Sages, Heroes, and
Poets ; and thus has everything great and good in the
world arisen. On the other hand, there are individuals,
and, where the contagion has become very dangerous,
whole ages with few exceptions, that by the same inex
plicable instinct of nature are so imprisoned and rooted
in the lowest view of things, that even the clearest and
most evident instruction cannot induce them to raise
their eves even for a moment from the earth, and to
apprehend anything whatever but that which they can
directly lay hold of with their hands.

So much in general as to the distinction we have in
dicated in the modes of viewing the World ; and now to
set forth the separate modes of this distinction.

The First, lowest, shallowest, and most confused mode
of viewing the World, is that wherein that only is re
garded as the World, and actual existence therein, which
is perceptible to outward SENSE ; as the highest, true,
and self-sufficient existence. This view has been al
ready sufficiently depicted in these lectures, particularly
in the third, and, as it seems to me, clearly enough
characterized ; and on that occasion its worthlessness and
superficiality were made abundantly evident, although
only by a glance at its surface. We admitted that this
view was nevertheless that of our philosophers, and of
the age that is formed in their schools ; but we showed
at the same time that this view by no means proceeds
from their logic since the very nature and possibility
of logic directly gives the lie to such a view but from
their love. We cannot pause any longer at this point, for
in these lectures we must proceed far beyond this, and
therefore we must leave some things behind us as for ever
abolished. Should any one, persisting in the testimony of
his senses, continue to say : " But these things are obvi-

LECTURE V. 371

ously there, really and truly, for I see them there, and hear
them," then let such an one know that we are not even
disturbed by his confident assurance and inflexible faith ;
but that we abide by our categorical, invincible, and abso
lutely literal : " No, these things are not, precisely be
cause they may be seen and heard," and that we can
have nothing more to say to such a person, as one wholly
incapable of understanding or instruction.

The Second view, proceeding from the original division
in the modes of viewing the World, is that wherein the
World is regarded as a LAW OF ORDER and of equal
rights in a system of reasonable beings. Let this be
understood exactly as I have said it. A Law, and indeed
an ordering and equalizing Law addressed to the freedom
of many, is to this view the peculiar, self-subsistent
Eeality ; that by which the World arose, and in which
it has its root. Should any one here wonder how a
Law, which indeed, as such an one would say, is only a
relation a mere abstract conception, can be regarded
as an independent existence, the wonder of such an one
can proceed only from his inability to comprehend any
thing as real except visible and palpable matter; and
thus he also belongs to that class to whom we have
nothing to say. A Law, I say, is to this view of the
World the first thing; that which alone truly is, and
through which everything else that exists first comes into
existence. Freedom and a Human Race is to it the second
thing ; which exists only because a Law that is addressed
to freedom necessarily assumes the existence of freedom
and of free beings; and in this system the only foun
dation and proof of the independence of man is the Moral
Law that reveals itself within him. A Sensible World, fi
nally, is to it the third thing; and this is only the sphere
of the free action of man, and only exists because free ac
tion necessarily assumes the existence of objects of such
action. As to the sciences that arise out of this view, it

372 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

may lay claim not only to Jurisprudence, as setting forth
the legal relations of men, but also to the common doctrine
of Morals, which merely goes the length of forbidding in
justice between man and man, and merely rejects whatever
is opposed to Duty whether forbidden by an express law of
the State or not. Examples of this view of the World can
not be adduced from common life, which, rooted in matter,
does not raise itself even thus far ; but, in philosophical
literature, Kant is the most striking and consequential ex
ample of this view, if we do not follow his philosophical
career farther than the Critique of Practical Eeason; the
peculiar character of this mode of thought, as we have
expressed it above, namely, that the reality and indepen
dence of man are evidenced only by the Moral Law that
rules within him, and that only thereby does he become
anything in himself, being expressed by Kant in the same
words. We ourselves, too, have pointed out and investi
gated this view of the world, never indeed as the highest,
but as the foundation of a Doctrine of Jurisprudence and a
Doctrine of Morals in our treatment of these subjects; and
have there, as we are conscious, set it forth not without
energy : and there can therefore be no lack of examples,
in our own age, of this second view of the World, for those
who take a closer interest in what has now been said. For
the rest, the purely moral inward sentiment that man
ought to act only in obedience to, and for the sake of, the
Law which also enters into the sphere of this Lower
Morality, and the inculcation of which has not been for
gotten either by Kant or by us, does not belong to our
present subject, where we have to do only with objective
beliefs.

One general remark, which is of importance for all our
subsequent points of view, as well as for this, I shall
adduce here as the place where it may be made with
the greatest distinctness. This, namely : In order to
have a firm standpoint for any view of the World, it is

LECTURE V. 373

necessary that we should place the real and independent
being arid root of the World in one definite and un
changeable principle, from which we may be able to educe
the others as only partaking in the reality of the first,
and only assumed by reason of it; just as we have already,
when speaking of the second view of the World, educed the
Human Race as a second element, and the Sensible World
as a third, from the law of Moral Order as the first. But it
is by no means allowable to mix and intermingle realities;
and, it may be, to assign to the Sensible World whatever
is supposed to belong to it, at the same time not denying
to the Moral World any of its rights ; as is sometimes at
tempted by those who, having got quite confused, would
get rid of these questions altogether. Such persons have
no settled view whatever, and no fixed direction of their
spiritual eye, but they continually turn aside amid the
Manifold. Far better tban they, is he who holds firmly
by the World of Sense, and denies the reality of every-
thing else but it ; for although he may be as short-sighted
as the others, yet he is not at the same time so timid
and spiritless. In a word : a higher view of the World
does not tolerate the lower beside it; but each higher
step abolishes the lower as an absolute and highest stand
point, and subordinates it to itself.

The Third view of the World is that from the stand- 1
point of the True and HIGHER MORALITY. It is necessary
that we should render a very distinct account of this stand
point, which is almost wholly unknown to the present
age. To it also, as well as to the second of the views we
have now described, a Law of the Spiritual World is the
first, highest, and absolute reality ; and herein these two
views coincide. But the Law of the third view is not, like
that of the second, merely a Law of Order, regulating pre
sent existence; but rather a Creative Law, producing the
new and hitherto non-existent, even within the circle of that
which already exists. The former is merely negative,

374 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

abolishing the opposition between diverse free powers, and
establishing equilibrium and peace in its stead; the latter
desires to inform the powers, thus lulled to rest, with a
new life. We may say that it strives, not like the former
after the mere form of the Idea but after the qualitative
and real Idea itself. Its object may be briefly stated
thus : it seeks, in those whom it inspires, and through
them in others, to make Humanity in deed, what it is
in its original intention, the express image, copy, and
revelation of the inward and essential Divine Nature.
The process of deduction, by which this third view of
the World arrives at reality, is therefore the following :
To it, the only truly real and independent being is the
Holy, the Good, the Beautiful ; the second is Humanity,
as destined to be the manifestation of the first; the
ordering Law in Humanity, as the third, is but the means
of bringing it into internal and external peace for the
fulfilment of this its true vocation ; and finally, the World
I of Sense, as the fourth, is only the sphere both of the
outward and inward, the lower and higher, Freedom and
Morality ; only the sphere of Freedom, I say, that
which it is to all the higher points of view, and thus re
mains, and can never assume to itself any other reality.

Examples of this view in human history can be seen only
by him who has an eye to discover them. Through the
Higher Morality alone, and those who have been inspired
by it, have Religion, and in particular the Christian Re
ligion, Wisdom and Science, Legislation and Culture,
Art, and all else that we possess of Good and Venerable,
been introduced into the world. In Literature, except
scattered among the Poets, there are to be found but few
traces of this view : among the ancient Philosophers,
Plato may have had some presentiment of it ; among
the moderns, Jacobi sometimes touches upon this region.

The Fourth view of the World is that from the stand
point of RELIGION; which, since it arises out of the third

LECTURE V. 375

view which we have just described, and is conjoined with it,
must be characterized as the clear knowledge and convic
tion that this Holy, Good, and Beautiful, is by no means a
product of our own spirit, light, or thought, or of any other
knowledge which in itself is nothing, but that it is the im
mediate manifestation in us of the inward Divine Nature
as LIGHT; his expression, his image, wholly, absolutely,
and without abatement, in so far as his essential Nature
can come forth in an image or representation. This, the
Religious view, is that same insight for the production of
which we have prepared the way in our previous lectures,
and which now, in the connexion of its principles, may be
thus more precisely and definitely expressed : (1.) God
alone is, and nothing beside him : a principle which, it
seems to me, may be easily comprehended, and which is
the indispensable condition of all Religious insight. (2.)
But while we thus say " God is," we have an altogether
empty conception, furnishing absolutely no explanation of
God s essential Nature. From this conception, what
could we answer to the question : What then is God ?
The only possible addition we could make to the axiom,
this, namely, that he is absolutely, of himself, through
himself, and in himself, this is but the fundamental
form of our own understanding applied to him, and ex
presses no more than our mode of conceiving him ; and
even that negatively and as we can not think of him,
that is, we mean only that we cannot educe his being
from another, as we are compelled by the nature of our
understanding to do with all other objects of our thought.
This conception of God is thus an abstract and unsub
stantial conception ; and when we say " God is," he is
to us essentially nothing ; and, by this very expression
itself, is made nothing. (3.) But beyond this mere empty
and unsubstantial conception, and as we have carefully
set forth this matter above, God enters into us in his
actual, true, and immediate LIFE ; or, to express it more

376 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

strictly, we ourselves are this his immediate Life. But we
are not conscious of this immediate Divine Life; and since,
as we have also already seen, our own Ex-istence that
which properly belongs to us is that only which we can
embrace in consciousness, so our Being in God, notwith
standing that at bottom it is indeed ours, remains never
theless for ever foreign to us, and thus, in deed and truth,
to ourselves is not our Being ; we are in no respect the
better of this insight, and remain as far removed as
ever from God. We know nothing of this immediate
Divine Life, I said ; for even at the first touch of con
sciousness it is changed into a dead outward World, which
again divides itself into a five-fold form according to the
point of view from which we regard it. Although it
may be that it is God himself who ever lives behind all
these varied forms, yet we see him not, but only his gar
ment ; we see him as stone, plant, animal, &c., or, if we
soar higher, as Natural Law, or as Moral Law : but all
this is yet not He. The form for ever veils the essence
from us; our vision itself conceals its object; our eye stands
in its own light. I say unto thee who thus complainest :
" Raise thyself to the standpoint of Religion, and alt
these veils are drawn aside ; the World, with its dead
principle, disappears from before thee, and the God-head
once more enters and resumes its place within thee, in its
first and original form, as LIFE, as thine own Life, which
thou oughtest to live, and shalt live. Still the one,
irreversible form of Reflexion remains, the Manifold
variety in thee of this Divine Life, which in God him
self is but One; but this form troubles thee not, for
thou desirest it not nor lovest it; it does not mislead
thee, for thou art able to explain it. In that which the
Holy Man does, lives, and loves, God appears, no longer
surrounded by shadows nor hidden by a garment, but in
his own, immediate, and efficient Life ; and the question
which is unanswerable from the mere empty and un-

LECTURE V. 377

substantial conception of God, " What is God? " is here
answered : " He is that which he who is devoted to him
and inspired by him does." Wouldst thou behold God face >
to face, as he is in himself ? Seek him not beyond the
skies; thou canst find him wherever thou art. Behold
the life of his devoted ones, and thou beholdest him ;
resign thyself to him, and thou wilt find him within thine
own breast."

This, my friends, is the view of the World and of Being
from the standpoint of Keligion.

The Fifth and last view of the World is that from the
standpoint of SCIENCE. Of Science, I say, One, Abso
lute, and Self-complete. Science thoroughly comprehends
all these points of the transition of the One into a Mani
fold, and of the Absolute into a Relative, in their order
and in their relations to each other; being able, in every
case, and from each individual point of view, to carry
back that Multiplicity to its primitive Unity, or to deduce
from the original Unity that Multiplicity of form : as
we have laid before you the general characteristics of
such Science in this and our two preceding lectures.
Science goes beyond the insight into the fact that the
Manifold is assuredly founded on the One and is to be
referred to it, which is given to us by Religion, to the
insight into the manner of this fact ; and to it that be
comes a genetic principle which to Religion is but an
absolute fact. Religion without Science is mere Faith
although an immovable Faith ; Science supersedes all
Faith and changes it into sight. Since we do not, how
ever, put forward this Scientific standpoint as properly
belonging to our present inquiry, but only refer to it for
the sake of completeness, it is sufficient at present to add
the following respecting it : Science is not indeed a con
dition of the Divine and Blessed Life ; but nevertheless
the demand that we should realise this Science, in our
selves and in others, falls within the domain of the Higher

I I

378 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

Morality. The true and complete Man ought to be
thoroughly clear in himself; for universal and complete
clearness belongs to the image and representative of God.
But, on the other hand, no one can make this demand
upon himself to whom it has not already been made
without his own aid, and has thereby itself become already
clear and intelligible to him.

We have yet to make the following remarks on the five
points of view which we have now indicated, and thus to
complete our picture of the Religious Man.

Both the last-mentioned points of view, the Scientific
as well as the Religious, are only percipient and con
templative, not in themselves active and practical. They
are merely inert and passive moods, which abide within the
mind itself; not impulses moving towards action, and so
bursting forth into life. On the contrary, the third point
of view, that of the Higher Morality, is practical, im
pelling towards action. And now I add : True Religion,
notwithstanding that it raises the thought of those who
are inspired by it to its own region, nevertheless retains
their life firmly within the domain of action, and of right
moral action. The true and real Religious Life is not
alone percipient and contemplative, does not merely brood
over devout thoughts, but is essentially active. It con
sists, as we have seen, in the intimate consciousness that
God actually lives, moves, and perfects his work in us.
If therefore there is in us no real Life, if no activity
and no visible work proceed forth from us, then is God
not active in us. Our consciousness of union with God is
then deceptive and vain, and the empty shadow of a con
dition that is not ours ; perhaps the vague but lifeless in
sight that such a condition is possible, and in others may be
actual, but that we ourselves have, nevertheless, not the
least portion in it. We are expelled from the domain of
Reality, and again banished to that of vain and empty con
ception. The latter is mere fanaticism and idle dreaming,

LECTURE V. 379

because there is no reality answering to it; and this
fanaticism is one of the faults of that system of Mysti
cism which we have elsewhere described and contrasted
with the True Religion : it is by living activity that the
True Religious Life is distinguished from this fanaticism.
Religion does not consist in mere devout dreams, I said:
Religion is not a business by and for itself, which a man
may practise apart from his other occupations, perhaps on
certain fixed days and hours ; but it is the inmost spirit
that penetrates, inspires, and pervades all our Thought
and Action, which in other respects pursue their appointed
course without change or interruption. That the Divine
Life and Energy actually lives in us, is inseparable from
Religion, I said. But this does not depend upon the
sphere in which we act, as may have become evident
from what we said when speaking of the third point of
view. He whose knowledge extends to the objects of the
Higher Morality, if lie be animated by Religion, will live
and act in this sphere, because this is his peculiar calling
But to him who has only a lower vocation, even it may be
sanctified by Religion, and will receive thereby, if not the
material, yet the form of the Higher Morality ; to which
nothing more is essential than that we should recognise
and love our vocation as the Will of God with us and in
us. If a man till his field in this faith, or practise the
most unpretending handicraft with this truthfulness, he
is higher and more blessed than if, without this faith,
if that were possible, he should confer happiness and
prosperity upon mankind for ages to come.

This then is the picture the inward spirit of the true
Religious man : He does not conceive of his World, the
object of his love and his endeavour, as something for
him to enjoy, not as if melancholy and superstitious fear
caused him to look upon enjoyment and pleasure as some
thing sinful but because he knows that no mere pleasure
can yield him true joy. He conceives of it as a World of

380 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

Action, his World, in which alone he lives and can
live, and find enjoyment of himself. This Action again
he does not will for the sake of a result in the World
of Sense ; he is in no respect anxious about the result
or no-result that may ensue, for he lives only in Action,
as Action ; but he wills it, because it is the Will of God
in him, and his own proper portion in Being. And so does
his Life flow onwards, simple and pure, knowing, willing,
and desiring nothing else than this, never wandering
from this centre, neither moved nor troubled by aught
external to itself.

Such is his Life. Whether this be not of necessity the
most pure and perfect Blessedness, we shall inquire at
another time.

( 381 )

LECTURE VI.

EXPOSITION OF THE DOCTRINE OF THE JOHANNEAN

GOSPEL: ITS ACCORDANCE WITH

OUR OWN DOCTRINE.

OUR whole Doctrine, as the foundation of all that \ve have
yet to say at this time, and generally of all that we can
say at any time, is now clearly and distinctly set forth, and
may be surveyed at a single glance. There is absolutely
no Being and no Life beyond the immediate Divine Life.
According to the essential and irreversible laws of Con
sciousness, laws which are founded in the very nature of
Consciousness itself, this Being is veiled and darkened in
Consciousness, by manifold concealments ; but, freed from
these disguises, and modified only by the form of Infini
tude, it reappears in the life and actions of the God-
inspired man. In his actions it is not man who acts;
but God himself, in his primitive and inward Being and
Nature, acts in man and fulfils his work through man.

I said, in one of the first and introductory lectures, that
this doctrine, however new and unheard of it may seem to
this age, is nevertheless as old as the world ; and that, in
particular, it is the doctrine of Christianity, as this, even to
the present day, lies before our view in its purest and most
excellent record, the Gospel of John ; and that this doctrine
is there set forth with the very same images and expres-

382 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

sions which we here employ. It may be well, in many re
spects, to make good that statement, and to this purpose
we shall devote the present lecture. It will be understood,
even without a special declaration on our part, that we by
no means intend to prove our doctrine, or even to add to
it an outward support, by demonstrating this harmony be
tween it and Christianity. It must already, by what we
have previously said, have proved itself, and that with abso
lute evidence, and it needs no further support. And in
the same way must Christianity, as in harmony with Rea
son, and as the pure and perfect expression of this Reason,
beyond which there is no truth, so, I say, must Chris
tianity prove itself, if it is to lay claim to validity and
acceptance. It is not by philosophers that you need fear
to be led back again into the chains of blind authority.

In my lectures of last winter,* I have distinctly an
nounced the grounds upon which I regard the Apostle
John as the only teacher of true Christianity: namely,
that the Apostle Paul and his party, as the authors of the op
posite system of Christianity, remained half Jews ; and left
unaltered the fundamental error of Judaism as well as of
Heathenism, which we must afterwards notice. For the
present the following may be enough : It is only with
John that the philosopher can have to do, for he alone
has respect for Reason, and appeals to that evidence
which alone has weight with the philosopher the in
ternal. "If any man will do the will of him that sent
me, he shall know of the doctrine, whether it be of God."
But this Will of God, according to John, is that we
should truly believe in God, and in Jesus Christ whom
he hath sent. The other promulgators of Christianity,
however, rely upon the external evidence of Miracle, t
which, to us at least, proves nothing. Further, of the
four Gospels, only that of John contains what we seek and

* " Characteristics of the Present Age/ Lecture VIT.

LECTURE v;. 333

desire, a Doctrine of Religion; while, on the contrary, the
best that the others offer to us, without completion and
explanation by John, amounts to nothing more than
Morality; which to us has but a very subordinate value.
As to the assertion that John had the other Evangelists
before him, and only intended to supply what they had
omitted, we shall not here inquire into it ; should that
be the case, then, in our opinion, the supplement is the
best part of the whole, arid John s predecessors had passed
over that precisely which was of essential importance.

As to the principle of interpretation which I apply to
this as well as to all the other authors of the Christian
Scriptures, it is the following : So to understand them as
if they had really desired to say something, and, so far as
their words permit, as if they had said what is right and
true : a principle that seems to be in accordance with
justice and fairness. But we are wholly opposed to the
hermeneutical principle of a certain party, according to
which the most earnest and simple expressions of these
writers are regarded as mere images and metaphors, and
thus explained and re-explained away, until the result
is a flat and insipid triviality such as these interpreters
might themselves have discovered and brought forward.
Other means of interpretation than those contained in
themselves seem to me inadmissible in the case of these
writers, and particularly in the case of John. Where, as
in the case of the profane authors of classical antiquity,
we can compare several contemporary writers with each
other, and all of them with a preceding and succeeding
republic of letters, there is room for the employment of
external aids. But Christianity, and particularly John,
stands alone and isolated, as a wonderful and inexpli
cable phenomenon of Time, without precedent and with
out true succedent.

In the substance of the Johannean doctrine, which we
have to set forth, we must carefully distinguish between

384 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

that in it which is true in itself, true absolutely and for
all time, and that which has been true only for the
standpoint of John and the Jesus whom he announces,
and for their time and circumstances. This latter, too,
we shall faithfully set forth ; for any other mode of inter
pretation than this is not only dishonest, but leads to
perplexity and confusion.

The portion of the Gospel of John which must neces
sarily attract our attention at the very outset, is the
dogmatic introduction which occupies a part of the first
chapter; as it were the preface. Do not regard this
preface as a special and arbitrary philosopheme of the
author himself, a speculative prelude to his historical
narrative, of which, holding only to the facts themselves,
we may, according to the proper intention of the author,
adopt whatever opinion we please ; as some appear to
regard this proem. It is much rather to be considered
in relation to the whole Gospel, and to be understood
only in that connexion. Throughout the whole Gospel,
the author represents Jesus as speaking of himself in a
certain manner, which we shall afterwards advert to; and
it is without doubt the conviction of John that Jesus
did speak precisely in this way and in no other, and
that he had heard him thus speak ; and it is without
doubt his earnest desire that we should believe him in
this. Now the preface explains how it was possible that
Jesus could think and speak of himself as he did ; and
it is therefore necessarily assumed by John that not only
he himself, and according to his own mere personal
opinion, so regarded Jesus and would so interpret him,
but that Jesus had likewise regarded himself in the
same way in which he is here depicted. The preface is
to be taken as the essence, the general standpoint, of all
the discourses of Jesus; it has, therefore, in the view
of the author, the same authority as these discourses
themselves. In the sight of John, this preface is not his

LECTURE VI. 385

own doctrine but that of Jesus, and indeed is the spirit,
the innermost root, of the whole doctrine of Jesus.

Having thus clearly set forth this not-unimportant
point, let us proceed, by the following preliminary remark,
to the subject itself.

The notion of a creation, as the essentially fundamental
error of all false Metaphysics and Religion, and, in particu
lar, as the radical principle of Judaism and Heathenism,
arises from ignorance of the doctrine which we have pre
viously laid down. Compelled to recognise the absolute
unity and unchangeableness of the Divine Nature in itself,
and being unwilling to give up the independent and real
existence of finite things, they made the latter proceed from
the former by an act of absolute and arbitrary power ;
whereby, in the first place, the fundamental conception of
Godhead was utterly destroyed, and an arbitrary power
established in its room, an error that ran through the
whole of their religious system ; and, in the second place,
Reason was for ever perverted, and Thought changed
into a dream of fancy ; for of such a creation it is im
possible even to conceive rightly in Thought what can
properly be called Thought and no man ever did so
conceive of it. In relation to the Doctrine of Religion,
in particular, the supposition of a creation is the first
criterion of the falsehood, and the denial of such a cre
ation, should it have been set up by any previous system,
is the first criterion of the truth, of such a Doctrine of
Religion. Christianity, and especially the profound
teacher of it of whom we now speak, John, stood in the
latter position; the existing Jewish Religion had set up
such a creation. "In the beginning God created" thus
do the sacred books of this Religion commence : " No,"
in direct contradiction to this, and Betting out with the
very same words, in order more distinctly to mark the
contradiction, but instead of the second and false expres
sion giving the truth in its place, "No," said John

c b

38C THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

" In the beginning," in the same beginning that is there
spoken of, that is, originally and before all time, God
did not create, for no creation was needed, but there was
already ; " In the beginning was the Word, . . . and
through him are all things made that are made."

In the beginning was the Word, in the original text,
the Logos ; which might also be translated Reason, or,
as nearly the same idea is expressed in the book called the
Wisdom of Solomon, Wisdom; but which, in our opinion,
is most exactly rendered by the expression " the Word,"
as it also stands in the oldest Latin version, doubtless in
consequence of a tradition of the disciples of John. What
then, according to the view of our author, is this Logos or
Word? Let us not reason too nicely about the expression,
but rather candidly note what John says of this Word:
the predicates applied to a subject usually determine the
nature of the subject itself, especially when they are applied
to that subject exclusively. He says, that the Word was
in the beginning ; that the Word was with God ; that God
himself was the Word ; that the Word was in the begin
ning with God. Was it possible for him to express more
clearly the doctrine which we have previously taught in
such words as the following : As besides God s inward
and hidden Being in himself (Seyri), which we are able
to conceive of in Thought, he has an Ex-istence (Daseyri),
which we can only practically apprehend ; so this Ex-ist
ence necessarily arises through his inward and absolute
Being itself; and his Ex-istence, which is only by us
distinguished from his Being, is, in itself and in him, not
distinguished from his Being ; but this Ex-istence is ori
ginally, before all time, and independently of all time,
with his Being, inseparable from his Being, and itself
his Being : the Word in the beginning, the Word with
God, the Word in the beginning with God, God him
self the Word, and the Word itself God ? Was it pos
sible for him to set forth more distinctly and forcibly the

LECTURE VI. 387

ground of this proposition : that in God, and from God,
there is nothing that arises or becomes ; but that in him
there is but an "Is," an Eternal Present; and that
whatever has Existence must be originally with him,
and must be himself? "Away with that perplexing
phantasm!" might the Evangelist have added, had he
wished to multiply words; " away with that phantasm of
a creation out of God of something that is not in himself,
and has not been eternally and necessarily in himself!
an emanation in which he is not himself present but for
sakes his work ; an expulsion and separation from him
that casts us out into desolate nothingness, and makes
him our arbitrary and hostile lord !"

This " Being with God," or, according to our expression,
this his Ex-istence, is farther characterized as the Logos
or Word. How was it possible more clearly to declare
that it was his spiritual expression, his Revelation and
Manifestation, clear and intelligible in and to itself ?
or, as we have given utterance to the same idea, that
the immediate Ex-istence (Daseyn) of God is necessarily
Consciousness, partly of itself, partly of God ? for which
proposition we have adduced the clearest proof.

If this be now evident in the first place, then there is
no longer the slightest obscurity in the assertion contained
in verse 3, that " all things are made through him ; and
without him is not anything made that is made, &c. ;"
and this proposition is wholly equivalent to that which
we propounded : that the World and all things exist
only in Consciousness, according to John, in the Word,
and only as objects of conception and Consciousness,
as God s spontaneous expression of himself; and that
Consciousness, or the Word, is the only Creator of the
World, and, by means of the principle of separation con
tained in its very nature, the Creator of the manifold
and infinite variety of things in the World.

In fine : I would express these three verses in my own

388 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

language thus: The Ex-istence (Daseyti) of God is origi
nal and underived like his Being (Seyn) ; the latter is
inseparable from the former, and is indeed in all respects
the same as the former : this Divine Ex-istence, in its
substance, is necessarily Knowledge ; and in this Know
ledge alone has a World, and all things present in the
World, arisen.

In like manner the two succeeding verses are now clear
to us. In him, in this immediate Divine Ex-istence, was
Life, the deepest root of all living, substantial Existence,
which nevertheless remains for ever concealed from view;
and in actual men this Life is Light, or conscious Re
flexion ; and this one, eternal, primitive Light shines for
ever in the Darkness of the lower and obscure grades of
Spiritual Life, maintains these in existence, itself unseen,
and the Darkness comprehends it not.

So far as we have now proceeded in our interpretation
of the proem to the Johannean Gospel, we have met only
with what is absolutely and eternally true. At this point
begins that which possesses validity only for the time of
Jesus and the establishment of Christianity, and for the
necessary standpoint of Christ and his Apostles; namely
the historical, not in any way metaphysical proposition,
that this absolute and immediate Existence of God, the
Eternal Knowledge or Word, pure and undefiled as it is
in itself, without any admixture of impurity or darkness,
or any merely individual limitation, manifested itself in
a personal, sensible, human existence, namely, in that
Jesus of Nazareth, who at a certain particular time ap
peared teaching and preaching in the land of Judea, and
whose most remarkable expressions are here recorded,
and in him, as the Evangelist has well expressed it, be
came flesh. As to the difference, as well as the agree
ment, of these two standpoints, that of the absolutely
and eternally true, and that which is true only from the
temporary point of view of Jesus and his Apostles, it

LECTURE VI. 389

stands thus. From the first standpoint, the Eternal
Word becomes flesh, assumes a personal, sensible, and
human existence, without obstruction or reserve, in all
times, and in every individual man who has a living
insight into this Unity with God, and who actually and
in truth gives up his personal life to the Divine Life
within him, precisely in the same way as it became
incarnate in Jesus Christ. This truth, which, be it
observed, speaks only of the possibility of being, without
reference to the means of its actual attainment, is neither
denied by John nor by the Jesus to whose teachings he
introduces us ; but, on the contrary, they insist upon it
everywhere in the most express terms, as we shall after
wards ee. The peculiar and exclusive standpoint of
Christianity, which has validity only for the disciples of
that system, looks to the means of attaining this True
Being, and teaches us thus regarding them ; Jesus of
Nazareth, absolutely by and through himself, by virtue of
his mere existence, nature or instinct, without deliberate
art, and without guidance or direction, is the perfect sen
sible manifestation of the Eternal Word, as no one what
ever has been before him ; while those who become his
disciples are as yet not so, since they still stand in need
of its manifestation in him ; they must first become
so through him. This is the characteristic dogma of
Christianity, as a phenomenon of Time, as an institution
for the religious culture of man, in which dogma, with
out doubt, Jesus and his Apostles believed : set forth
purely, brightly, and in the highest sense, in the Gospel
of John, to whom Jesus of Nazareth is indeed the Christ,
the promised Saviour of Mankind, but only in virtue of
this Christ being to him the Word made flesh ; in Paul
and the others, mixed up with Jewish dreams of a Son
of David, an abolisher of an Old Covenant, and a mediator
of a New. Everywhere, but particularly in John, Jesus
is the first-born, and only-begotten Son of the Father, not

390 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

as an emanation or anything else of that kind ; these
irrational dreams arose only at a later period, but in the
sense above explained, in eternal unity and equality of
nature ; and all other men can become children of God
only mediately through Jesus, and by means of a trans
formation into his nature. Let us, in the first place,
distinctly recognise this ; for otherwise we shall partly
interpret Christianity dishonestly, and partly not under
stand it at all, but only be led into perplexity and con
fusion. Let us, therefore, at least endeavour rightly to
apprehend and judge of this point of view, which must
of course remain open to every one, although we our
selves have no intention of making use of it here. With
reference to this matter, then, I remark (1.) An insight
into the absolute unity of the human existence with the
Divine is certainly the profoundest knowledge that man
can attain. Before Jesus, this knowledge had nowhere
existed ; and since his time, we may almost say down
even to the present day, it has been again as good as
rooted out and lost, at least in profane cognition. Jesus,
however, was evidently in possession of this insight ; as
we shall incontestably find, were it only in the Gospel of
John, as soon as we ourselves attain it. How then came
Jesus by this insight? That any one coming after him,
when the truth had already been revealed, should again
discover it, is not so great a wonder ; but how the first
discoverer, separated from centuries before him and cen
turies after him by the exclusive possession of this in
sight, did attain to it, this is an exceeding great wonder.
And so it is in fact true, what is maintained in the first
part of the Christian Dogma, that Jesus of Nazareth is,
in a wholly peculiar manner attributable to no one but
him, the only-begotten and first-born Son of God ; and
that all ages, which are capable of understanding him at
all, must recognise him in this character. (2.) Although
it be true, that in the present day, a man may re-discover

LECTURE VI. 391

tins doctrine in the writings of Christ s Apostles, and
for himself and by means of his own conviction recognise
it as the Truth ; although it be true, as we likewise
maintain, that the philosopher, so far as he knows, dis
covers the same truths altogether independently of
Christianity, and surveys them in a consequentially and
universal clearness in which they are not delivered, to us
at least, by means of Christianity ; yet it nevertheless re
mains certain, that we, with our whole age and with all our
philosophical inquiries, are established on and have pro
ceeded from Christianity ; that this Christianity has en
tered into our whole culture in the most varied forms; and
that, on the whole, we might have been nothing of all that
we are, had not this mighty principle gone before us in
Time. We can cast off no portion of the being that we
have inherited from earlier ages; and no intelligent man
will trouble himself with inquiries as to what would be, if
that which is had not been. And thus also the second part
of the Christian Dogma, that all those who, since Jesus,
have come into union with God, have come into such
union with God through him, and by means of his union
with God, is likewise unquestionably true. And thus it
is confirmed in every way, that, even to the end of Time,
all wise and intelligent men must bow themselves re
verently before this Jesus of Nazareth ; and that the more
wise, intelligent and noble they themselves are, the more
humbly will they recognise the exceeding nobleness of this
great and glorious manifestation of the Divine Life.

So much to guard the view of Christianity which pos
sesses but temporary validity against false and unfair
judgment where this may naturally be anticipated ; but
by no means to force this view upon any one who either has
not directed his attention to the historical side of the matter,
or who, even if he have investigated that side of it, has been
unable to discover there what we think we have found.
Therefore, by what we have now said, we by no means wish

392 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

to be understood as joining ourselves to the party of those
Christians to whom things have a value only on account
of the name they bear. The Metaphysical only, and not
the Historical, can give us Blessedness ; the latter can
only give us understanding. If any man be truly united
with God, and dwell in him, it is altogether a matter of
indifference how he may have attained that union ; and it
would be a most useless and perverse employment, in
stead of living in that high relation itself, to be contin
ually conning over our recollections of the way toward
it. Could Jesus return into the world, we might expect
him to be thoroughly satisfied if he found Christianity
actually reigning in the minds of men, whether his merit
in the work were recognised or forgotten ; and this is,
in fact, the very least that might be expected from a man
who, while he lived on earth, sought not his own glory
but the glory of him who sent him.

Now that, by means of distinguishing these two stand
points, we possess the key to all the expressions of the Jo-
hannean Jesus, and the certain means of referring back
whatever is clothed in a merely temporary form to its
original source in pure and absolute Truth, let us com
prise the substance of these expressions in the answer to
these two questions : (1.) What does Jesus say of him
self regarding his relation to the Godhead? and (2.)
What does he say of his disciples and followers regard
ing their relation, in the first place to himself, and then,
through him, to the Godhead ?

Chap. I. verse 18 " No man hath seen God at any
time ; the only begotten Son, who is in the bosom
of the Father, he hath declared him : " or, as
we have said : The essential Divine Nature, in
itself, is hidden from us ; only in the form of
Knowledge does it come forth into manifestation,
and that altogether as it is in itself.
Chap. Y. verse 19 " The Son can do nothing of him-

LECTURE VI. 393

self, but what he seeth the Father do ; for what
things soever he doeth, these also doeth the Son
likewise : " or, as we have expressed it, his sep
arate independent life is swallowed up in the life
of God.

Chap. X. verses 27, 28 " My sheep hear my voice, and
I know them, and they follow me: and I give unto
them eternal life; and they shall never perish, nei
ther shall any pluck them out of my hand." Ver.
29. " My Father who gave them me, is greater
than all ; and none is able to pluck them out of
my Father s hand." Who is it then, it may be
asked, who holds and keeps them, Jesus or the
Father ? The answer is given in verse 30 : "I
and my Father are one:" the same thing said
in the two identical statements. His life is my
life, and mine is his ; my work is his work, and
his is mine ; precisely as we have expressed our
selves in our preceding lecture.

So much for the clearest and most convincing passages.
The whole Gospel speaks in the same terms on this point,
uniformly and with one voice. Jesus speaks of himself
in no other way than this.

But further, how does Jesus speak of his followers, and of
their relation to him ? He constantly assumes that, in
their actual condition, they have not the true life in
them, but, as he expresses it in Chap. III. with reference
to Nicodemus, must receive a wholly different life, as
much opposed to their present life as if an entirely new
man should be born in their stead: or, where he
expresses himself most forcibly, that they have not,
properly speaking, either existence or life, but are sunk
in death and the grave, and that it is he who must first
give them life.

db

394 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

On this point, consider the following decisive pas
sages :

Chap. YL verse 53 " Except ye eat my flesh and
drink niy blood" (this expression will be after
wards explained), "ye have no life in you:"
Only by means of thus eating my flesh and drink
ing my blood is there aught in you ; without this
there is nothing.

Chap. V. verse 24 " He that heareth my word," &c.,
" hath eternal life, and is passed from death unto
life." Verse 25 " The hour is coming, and now
is, when the dead shall hear the voice of the Son
of God ; and they that hear shall live." Tbe
dead ! Who are these dead ? Those who are to
lie in their graves till the last day ? A coarse,
crude interpretation ; in Scriptural language, an
interpretation according to the flesh, and not
according to the spirit. The hour was even then:
they themselves were the dead who had not yet
heard his voice, and even on that account were
dead.

And what is this life that Jesus promises to give his
followers ?

Chap. Till, verse 51 " Verily, verily, I say unto you,
If a man keep my word, he shall never see
death," not as dull expositors take it ; " he
shall indeed once die, only not for ever, but he
shall again be awakened at the last day," but
" he shall never die : " as the Jews actually under
stood it, and attempted to refute Jesus by an
appeal to the death of Abraham, while he justified
their interpretation by declaring that Abraham,
who had seen his day, who had, doubtless
through Melchisedek, been initiated into his doc
trine, was actually not dead.

LECTURE VI. 395

Or yet more distinctly,

Chap. XI. verse 23-" Thy brother shall rise a*ain
Martha" (whose head was filled with Jewish no
tions) " saith unto him, I know that he shall rise
again in the resurrection at the last day." No
said Jesus" I am the Resurrection and the Life:
he that believeth in me, though he were dead,"
yet shall he live ; and whosoever liveth, and be-
lieyeth in me, shall never die." Union with me is
union with the Eternal God and his Life, and the
certain assurance thereof; so that in every moment
of time, he who is so united with me, is in com
plete possession of Eternity, and places no faith
whatever in the fleeting and deceptive phenomena
of a birth and a death in Time, and therefore
needs no re-awakening as a deliverance from a
death in which he does not believe.
And whence has Jesus this power of giving Eternal
Life to his followers ? From his absolute^ identity with
God. Chap.V.v.26 "As the Father hath life in him
self, so hath he given to the Son to have life in himself."

Further, in what way do the followers of Jesus become
partakers of this identity of his Life with the Divine Life?
Jesus declares this in the most manifold and varied ways,
of which I shall here adduce only the most clear and
forcible, that which, precisely on account of its absolute
clearness, has been the most completely unintelligible and
offensive, both to his contemporaries and to their descen
dants even to the present day. Chap. VI. verses 53-55
" Except ye eat the flesh of the Sou of Man, and drink
his blood, ye have no life in you. AVhoso eateth my flesh,
and drinketh my blood, hath eternal life. For my flesh is
meat indeed, and my blood is drink indeed." What does
this mean? He explains himself at v. 56 " He that
eateth my flesh, and drinketh my blood, dwelleth in me,
and I in him," or, reversing the expression, He that

dwel-

396 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

leth in me and I in him, he hath eaten my flesh, &c. To
eat his flesh, and drink his blood, means to become
wholly and entirely he himself; to become altogether
changed into his person without reserve or limitation ;
to be a faithful repetition of his personality; to be
transubstantiated with him, i.e. as he is the Eternal
Word made flesh and blood, to become his flesh and
blood, and what follows from that, and indeed is the
same thing to become the very Eternal Word made
flesh and blood itself; to think wholly and entirely
like him, and so as if he himself thought, and not we ;
to live wholly and entirely like him, and so as if he
himself lived in our life. As surely as you do not now
attempt to drag down my own words, and reduce them to
the narrow meaning that Jesus is only to be imitated as an
unattainable pattern, partially and at a distance, as far as
human weakness will allow, but accept them in the sense in
which I have spoken them, that we must be transformed
into Christ himself, so surely will it become evident to
you that Jesus could not well have expressed himself
otherwise, and that he actually did express himself ex
cellently well. Jesus was very far from representing him
self as that unattainable ideal into which he was first
transformed by the spiritual poverty of after-ages ; nor
did his Apostles so regard him : among the rest Paul,
who says : " I live not, but Christ liveth in me." Jesus
desired that he should be repeated in the persons of his
followers, in his complete and undivided character, as he
was in himself; and indeed he demanded this absolutely,
as an indispensable condition of discipleship : Except ye
eat my flesh, &c., ye have no life whatever in you, but ye
abide in the graves wherein I found you.

Only this one thing he demanded : not more, and not
less. He did not, by any means, propose to rest satisfied
with the mere historical belief that he was the Eternal
Word made flesh, the Christ, for which he gave himself

LECTURE VI.

out. He certainly did demand, even according to John
as a preliminary condition, only to secure attention to,
and acceptance of his teachings he did demand Faith
that is, the previous admission of the possibility that he
might be indeed this Christ ; and he even did not disdain
to facilitate and strengthen this admission by means of
striking and wonderful works which he performed. But
the final and decisive proof, which was first to be made
possible through the preliminary admission or Faith, was
this : that a man should actually do the will of him who
had sent Jesus, that is, in the sense we have explained,
should eat his flesh and drink his blood, whereby he should
, then know of the doctrine, that it was from God, and
that he spake not of himself. As little is his discourse
of faith in his expiatory merits. According to John,
Jesus is indeed a Lamb of God that taketh away the sins
of the world ; but by no means one who with his blood
appeases an angry God. He takes them away : Accord
ing to his doctrine, man does not exist at all out of God
and him, but is dead and buried ; he does not even enter
into the Spiritual Kingdom of God : how then can this
poor, non-existent shadow introduce dissension into this
Kingdom, and disturb the Divine Plan ? But he who is
transformed into the likeness of Jesus, and thereby into
that of God, he no longer lives himself, but God lives
in him; but how can God sin against himself? Thus
has he borne away and destroyed the whole delusion of
sin, and the dread of a Godhead that could feel itself
offended by men. Finally, if any man in this way should
repeat the character of Jesus in his own person, what
then, according to the doctrine of Jesus, is the result ?
Thus does Jesus, in the presence of his disciples, call
upon his Father : Chap. XVII. verse 20 "Neither
pray I for these alone, but for them also which shall
believe on me through their word ; that they all may be
one ; as thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they

398 THE DOCTRINE OF EELIGION.

also may be one in us." One in us. Now, according
to tiiis consummation, all distinctions are laid aside;
the whole community the first-born of all, with his
more immediate followers, and with all those who are
born in later days here merge together into one common
source of all life the Godhead. And thus, as we have
maintained above, does Christianity, assuming its purpose
to be attained, again fall into harmony with the Absolute
Truth, and itself maintain that every man may and
ought to come into unity with God, and himself, in his
own person, become the Divine Ex-istence, or the Eternal
Word.

And thus it is proved that the doctrine of Christianity,
even in the system of images under which it represents
Life and Death, and all that flows therefrom, is in strict
harmony with that doctrine which we have set forth to
you in our previous lectures, and have combined into one
single view at the beginning of to-day s discourse.

In conclusion, listen once more to that with which I
closed my last lecture, but now in the words of the same
Apostle John.

Thus he combines, doubtless with reference to his Gos
pel, the practical results of the whole : Epistle I. Chap.
I. " That which was from the beginning, which we have
heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have
looked upon, and our hands have handled, of the Word
of Life." Do you observe how anxious he is to appear,
not as having given forth his own thoughts in his Gos
pel, but as the mere witness of what he had seen ?
"That which we have seen and heard declare we unto
you, that ye also " in spirit and on the foundation of
the last words we have quoted from Jesus " may have
fellowship with us ; and truly our fellowship " ours, the
Apostles, as well as yours, the newly converted "is with
the Father, and with his Son Jesus Christ. . . If we
soy that we have fellowship with him, and walk in dark-

LECTURE VI. 399

ness "if we think that we are united with God while
yet the Divine Energy does not burst forth in our lives
" we lie, and do not the truth "we are but dreamers
and fanatics. " But if we walk in the Light, as he is in
the Light, we have fellowship one with another, and the
blood of Jesus Christ the Son of God" not, in the theo
logical sense, his blood shed for the remission of our
sins, but his blood and mind entered into us, his Life
in us "cleanseth us from all sin/ and raiseth us far
above the possibility of sin.

( 401 )

APPENDIX TO LECTURE VI.

THE HISTORICAL AND THE METAPHYSICAL IN
CHRISTIANITY.

THAT the fundamental doctrine of Christianity, as a special
institution for the development of Religion in the human
race : i.e. that in Jesus Christ, for the first time, and in a
way predicable of no other man, the eternal Ex-istence
(Daseyn) of God has assumed a human personality; and
that all other men can attain to union with God only
through him, and by means of the repetition of his whole
character in themselves : that this is a merely historical,
and not in any way a metaphysical proposition, we have
already said in the text (page 388.) It is perhaps not
superfluous to point out here, still more clearly, the distinc
tion upon which this declaration is founded ; since I am
not entitled, in the case of the general public to whom
it is now presented, to make the same assumption as in
the case of the majority of my immediate hearers, that
they are familiar with this distinction through my other
teachings.

If we take these expressions in their strict signification,
the Historical and the Metaphysical are directly opposed to
each other; and that which is really historical is, on that
very account, not metaphysical and the reverse. The
Historical, and what is purely historical in every possible

eb

402 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

phenomenon, is that which may be apprehended as simple
and absolute Fact, existing for itself alone and isolated
from everything else, not explained or deduced from a
higher source : the Metaphysical, on the contrary, and
the metaphysical element in every particular phenome
non, is that which necessarily proceeds from a higher
and more comprehensive law, and which may be deduced
from that law, and therefore cannot be comprehended as
simple fact ; and, strictly speaking, can only by means
of a delusion be regarded as fact at all, since in truth it
is not apprehended as fact, but only in consequence of
the Law of Reason that rules within us. The latter ele
ment of the phenomenon never extends to its actuality,
and the actual phenomenon again is never wholly ex
hausted in it ; and therefore in all actual phenomena
these two elements are inseparably combined.

It is the fundamental error of all pretended science that
does not recognise its own boundaries, in other words, of
the transcendental use of the understanding, that it is not
satisfied to accept the fact, simply as a fact, but must in
dulge in metaphysical speculation concerning it. Since, on
the supposition that what such a Metaphysic labours to re
fer to a higher law is in truth simply actual and historic,
there can be no such law, at least none accessible to us in
the present life, it follows, that the Metaphysic we have
described, arbitrarily assuming that such an explanation
is to be found here, which is its first error, must then
have recourse to its own invention for such an explanation,
and fill up the chasm by an arbitrary hypothesis, which
is its second error.

With regard to the case now before us, the primitive
fact of Christianity is accepted as historical, and simply as
fact, when we say, what is evident to every man, that Jesus
knew what he did know before any one else knew it, and
that he taught and lived as he did teach and live ;
without desiring to know further how all this was possible,

APPENDIX TO LECTURE VI. 403

which according to established principles, not however to
be communicated here, cannot be ascertained in this life.
But the same fact is metaphysisized by the transcendental
use of the understanding, soaring beyond the fact itself,
when we attempt to comprehend it in its primitive source,
and to this end set up an hypothesis as to how the in
dividual Jesus, as an individual, has emanated from the
essential Divine Nature. As an individual, I have said ;
for how humanity as a whole has come forth from the
Divine Nature may be comprehended, and has, I hope,
been made intelligible by our preceding lectures; and is,
according to us, the theme of the introduction to the
Johannean Gospel.

Now to us, who regard the matter only historically, it is
of no importance in which of these two ways the above-
mentioned principle is received by any one else, but only
in what way it was accepted by Jesus himself, and his
Apostle John, and how they authorized others to accept
it ; and it is certainly the most important element in our
view of the matter, that Christianity itself, as represented
by Jesus, has by no means accepted that principle meta
physically.

We retrace our argument to the following proposi
tions :

(1.) Jesus of Nazareth undoubtedly possessed the high
est perception, containing the foundation of all other
Truth, of the absolute identity of Humanity with the
Godhead, as regards what is essentially real in the former.
Upon this merely historical proposition, every one to
whom the following evidence is to prove anything what
ever, must first of all come to an understanding with
me; and I entreat you not to hurry over this point.
In my opinion, no one who has not previously attained,
by another way, to the knowledge of the One Reality,
and who does not possess this knowledge in living acti
vity within him, will readily discover it where I, having

404 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

first passed through this condition, have found it. But
if any one have already fulfilled this condition, and there
by created for himself the organ by which alone Chris
tianity may be comprehended, then he will not only
clearly re-discover this fundamental truth in Christianity,
but he will also discern a high and holy significance
spread over the other, often apparently singular, ex
pressions of these writings.

(2.) The mode and manner of this knowledge in Jesus
Christ, which is the second point of importance, may be best
characterized by contrast with the mode and manner in
which the speculative philosopher arrives at the same
knowledge. The latter proceeds upon the problem,
which in itself is foreign to Religion, and even profane
in its sight, and which is imposed upon him merely by
his desire of knowledge, to explain Existence. Wher
ever there is a learned public, he finds this problem
already proposed by others before him, and he finds fel
low-labourers in its solution both among his predecessors
and his contemporaries. It can never occur to him to
regard himself as in any respect singular or conspicuous
on account of the problem becoming clear to him.
Further, the problem, as a problem, appeals to his own
industry, and to the personal freedom of which he is
clearly conscious ; and being thus clearly conscious of
his own personal activity in its solution, he cannot, on
that very account, regard himself as inspired.

Suppose, finally, that he succeed in the solution, and
that in the only true way, by means of the Religious
Principle ; his discovery still proceeds upon a series of
preparatory investigations, and in this way it is to him
a natural result. Religion is but a secondary matter to
him, and is not regarded by him purely and solely as Re
ligion, but only as the solution of the problem to which
he has devoted his life.

It was not so with Jesus. In the first place, he did not

APPENDIX TO LECTURE VI. 405

set out from any speculative question, which could be
solved only by a Religious Knowledge attained at a later
period, and only in the course of the investigation of
that question; for he explained absolutely nothing by
his Religious Principle, and deduced nothing from it;
but he presented it, alone and by itself, as the only
thing worthy of knowledge, passing by everything else as
undeserving of notice. His Faith, and his conviction,
never allowed the question to arise as to the existence
of finite things. In short, they had no existence for
him ; only in union with God was there Reality. How
this Non-Entity could assume the semblance of Being,
from which doubt all profane speculation proceeds, did
not even excite his wonder.

As little had he his knowledge by outward teaching and
tradition ; for with that truly sublime sincerity and open
ness which are evident in all his expressions, and here I
venture to assume on the part of my reader that he has
acquired an intuitive perception of this sincerity by means
of his own personal possession of that virtue and by a pro
found study of the life of Jesus,- he would in that case
have said so, and directed his disciples to the sources of
his own knowledge. It does not follow, because he him
self indicated the existence of a truer religious knowledge
before Abraham, and one of his apostles distinctly referred
to Melchisedek, that Jesus had any connection with that
system by direct tradition ; but it might readily happen
that he should re-discover, in his study of Moses, that which
was already present in his own mind; since it is evident
from numerous other instances that he had an infinitely
more profound comprehension of the writings of the Old
Testament than the scriptural students of his day and the
majority of those of our own ; while he likewise pro
ceeded, as it appears, upon the sound hermeneutical prin
ciple, that Moses and the Prophets really desired to say
something and not nothing.

406 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

To say that Jesus did not receive his knowledge either
by means of his own speculation, or by communication
from without, is equivalent to saying that he had it as
part of his own existence, that it was to him primary
and absolute, without connexion with any other element
whatever ; purely through Inspiration, as we coming
after him, and in contrast with our own knowledge, may
express it, but as he himself never could express it.
And what knowledge had he in this way? That all Being
is founded in God alone; and consequently, what im
mediately follows from this, that his own Being, with
this knowledge and in this knowledge, had its founda
tion in God, and proceeded directly from him. What
immediately follows, I say : for to us certainly the latter
is an inference from the universal to the particular, since
we must first renounce our existing personal Ego, as
the particular in question, and merge it in the universal:
but it was by no means so, and this I entreat you to
remark as the chief point, it was by no means so with
Jesus. In him there was no intellectual, questioning, or
learning Self to be renounced, for in this knowledge his
whole spiritual self was already swallowed up. His
Self-consciousness was at once the pure and absolute
Truth of Reason itself; self-existent and original, the
simple fact of consciousness : by no means, as with us,
genetic, arising from another preceding state, and hence
no simple fact of consciousness, but an inference. In
that which I have thus endeavoured to express with the
utmost precision and distinctness must have consisted the
peculiar personal character of Jesus Christ, who, like every
other true individuality, can have appeared but once in
Time, and can never be repeated therein. He was the
Absolute Reason clothed in immediate Self-consciousness ;
or, what is the same thing, Religion.

(3.) In this absolute Fact, Jesus reposed with his whole
being, and was entirely lost therein ; with regard to it, he

APPENDIX TO LECTURE VI. 407

could never think, know, or say anything else but that he
knew it was so in very deed ; that he knew it immediately

in God, and that he also knew this in very deed that he

knew it immediately in God. As little could he point out
to his disciples any other way to Blessedness than that they
should become like as he was ; for that his way of life was
the source of Blessedness he knew in himself; but he knew
not this Blessed Life in any other shape than in himself,
and as his own way of life, and therefore he could not
otherwise describe it. He knew it not in the abstract and
universal conception in which the speculative philosopher
knows it and can describe it ; for he did not proceed upon
such conceptions, but only on his own self-consciousness.
He received it only historically ; and he who receives it as
we have explained above, receives it in like manner, and, as
it seems to us, after his example, only historically thus :
there was such a man, at such and such a time, in the
land of Judea ; and so far well. But he who desires to
know further, through what arbitrary arrangement of
God, or inward necessity in God, such an individual was
possible and actual, steps beyond the fact, and desires to
metaphysisize that which is merely historical.

For Jesus such a transcendentalism was simply impos
sible ; for to this end it would have been requisite for
him to distinguish himself, in his own personality, from
God, represent himself as thus separate, wonder over
himself as a remarkable phenomenon, and propose to
himself the task of solving the problem of the possi
bility of such an individual. But it is precisely the
most prominent and striking trait in the character of
the Johannean Jesus, ever recurring in the same shape,
that he knows nothing of such a separation of his per
sonality from his Father, and that he earnestly rebukes
others who attempt to make such a distinction ; that he
constantly assumes that he who sees him sees the Father,
that he who hears him hears the Father, and that he

408 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

and the Father are wholly one ; and that he uncondi
tionally denies and rejects the notion of an independent
personality in himself, when accused of undue self-asser
tion by those who misunderstood his words. To him
Jesus was not God, for to him there was no independent
Jesus whatever; but God was Jesus and manifested
himself as Jesus. Such self-contemplation, and wonder
over one s-self, were very far removed, I will not say
from a man like Jesus, with reference to whom the very
acquittal from such a charge would be something like
blasphemy, but from the whole realism of the ancient
world ; and the faculty of constantly looking back upon
ourselves to see how it stands with us, and of feeling
over again our feelings and the feeling of our feelings,
and so to explain ourselves and our remarkable person
ality psychologically, even to tediousness, was reserved
for the moderns ; with whom, on that very account, it
can never be well until they are satisfied to live simply
and plainly, without desiring to live their life over again
in its various possible forms ; leaving it to others, who
have nothing better to do, if they find it worth their
while, to marvel over this life of theirs, and to render
it intelligible.

( 409 )

LECTURE VII.

FIVE MODES OF MAN S ENJOYMENT OF THE WORLD

AND HIMSELF: SENSUOUS ENJOYMENT,

LEGALITY, STOICISM.

OUR theory of Being and Life is now completely laid before
you. It has been shown, not by any means as a proof of
this theory, but merely as a collateral illustration, that the
doctrine of Christianity on these subjects is the same as our
own. With reference to this latter view, I have here only
to ask permission to make such further use of the evidence
that has been brought forward, as sometimes to employ an
expression or an image from the Christian Scriptures, in
which are to be found most admirable and significant ima
ges. I shall not abuse this liberty. I am not ignorant that
in this age we can enter no circle at all numerous among
the cultivated classes, in which there shall not be found
some one in whom the mention of the name of Jesus, or
the use of scriptural expressions, excites unpleasant feel
ings, and the suspicion that the speaker must be either
a hypocrite or a fool. It is wholly opposed to my princi
ples to find fault with any one on this account : who can
know how much he may have been tormented with these
matters by meddling zealots, and what irrational things
may have been forced upon him as Scripture doctrine ? But
on the other hand, I know that in every cultivated society,

410 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

and specially in that which assembles here, there are to be
found other individuals, who love to fall back upon these
associations, and, with them, upon the feelings of early
youth. Let both these classes here reciprocally accommo
date themselves to each other. I shall say all that I have
to say, in the first place in ordinary language: let those
to whom scriptural images are offensive, content them
selves with the first expression, passing over the second
altogether.

The living possession of the theory we have now set
forth, not the dry, dead, and merely historical knowledge
of it, is, according to our doctrine, the highest, and indeed
the only possible, Blessedness. To demonstrate this is our
business henceforward ; and this marks out the second
leading division of these lectures, which has also been
separated from the first by the episodical inquiry to which
the immediately preceding lecture was devoted.

Clearness is always increased by contrast. Since it is
now our aim to comprehend thoroughly the True and
Bliss-giving mode of Thought, and to depict it to the
life, it will be well to characterize, more profoundly and
distinctly than in our first lecture, that superficial and
unblessed mode of Existence which is directly opposed to
the former, and which we, in common with Christianity,
call a Non-Existence, Death, or living Burial. We have
formerly characterized this false mode of Thought, in
opposition to the true, as vagrancy in the Manifold, con
trasted with retirement and concentration in the One ;
and this is, and remains, its essential characteristic. But
instead of directing our attention, as we did formerly,
more to the manifold outward objects among which it
is dissipated, let us no\v consider, without any reference
whatever to the object, how this mode of Thought is in
itself an open, shallow superficiality, a broken fountain
whose waters run waste on all sides.

All inward spiritual energy appears, in immediate Con-

LECTURE VII. 411

sciousness, as a concentration, comprehension, and contrac
tion of the otherwise distracted spirit into one point, and as
a persistence in this one point, in opposition to the con
stant natural effort to throw off this concentration, and to
become once more diffused abroad. Thus, I say, does all
inward energy appear; and it is only in this concentration
that man is independent, and feels himself to be indepen
dent. Beyond this condition of self-contraction, he is dis
persed and melted away as before; and that not according
to his own will and purpose (for any such effort is the oppo
site of dispersion concentration), but just as he is mould
ed and formed by lawless and incomprehensible chance.
In this latter condition, therefore, he has no independence
whatever ; he exists, not as a substantial reality, but as a
fuo-itive phenomenon of Nature. In short, the radical iin-

O i *

age of spiritual independence, in Consciousness, is an ever
self-forming and vitally persistent geometric point; just as
the radical image of dependence and of spiritual nonentity
is an indefinitely outspreading surface. Independence
draws the world into an apex ; dependence spreads it out
into a flat extended plane.

In the former condition only is there power, and the
consciousness of power; and hence in it only is a powerful
and energetic comprehension and penetration of the World
possible. In the second condition there is no power: the
Spirit of Man is not even present and at home in the
comprehension of the World, but, like Baal in the ancient
narrative, he has gone upon a journey, or is meditating,
or is asleep : how can he recognise himself in the object,
and distinguish himself from it ? He fades away, even
from himself, in the current of phenomena; and thus
his world pales before him, and instead of the living
Nature, over against which, by way of contrast, he should
set his own life, he beholds but a gray spectre, a misty
and uncertain shape. To such may be applied what an
ancient Prophet said of the idols of the heathen :" They

412 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

have eyes, and see not; and have ears, and they hear not."
They, in fact, see not with seeing eyes ; for it is a wholly
different thing to comprehend, in the eye and in the
mind, the visible object in its definite limitations, so that
from henceforward we may be able at any moment volun
tarily to recall it before the spiritual eye precisely as it
had been seen at first, under which condition alone any
one can truly say he has seen it, and to have a shadowy
and formless appearance floating before us in vague un
certainty until it disappears altogether, leaving behind it
no trace of its existence. He who has not yet attained
to this vivid comprehension of the objects of Outward
Sense may rest assured that he is yet a far way off from
the infinitely higher Spiritual Life.

In this weary, superficial, and incoherent condition a
multitude of oppositions and contradictions lie quietly
and tolerantly beside each other. In it there is nothing
discriminated and separated, but all things stand upon
an equality, and have grown up intermingled with each
other. They who live in it hold nothing to be true and
nothing false ; they love nothing and hate nothing. For,
in the first place, to such recognition as they might hold
by for ever, to love, to hate, or to any other affection,
there belongs that very energetic self-concentration of
which they are incapable ; and, secondly, it is likewise
requisite to such recognition or affection that they
should separate and discriminate the Manifold, in order
to choose therefrom the particular object of their recog
nition and affection. But how can they accept anything
whatever as established truth, since they would thereby
be constrained to cast aside and reject, as false, all other
possible things that are opposed to it ; to which their
tender attachment to both alike will by no means con
sent ? How can they love anything whatever with their
whole soul, since they would then be under the necessity
of hating its opposite, which their universal love and tol-

LECTURE VII. 413

eration will not permit? They love nothing, I said;
and interest themselves in nothing, not even in them
selves. If they ever propose the questions to themselves:
"Have I then right on my side, or have I not ? am
I right, or am I wrong ? what is to become of me, and
am I on the way to happiness or to misery ? "they
must answer : " What matters it to me ; I shall see what
becomes of me, and must accommodate myself to what
ever happens, time will show the result." Thus are
they despised, cast aside, and rejected of themselves ;
and thus even their most immediate owners, they them
selves, need not trouble themselves about them. Who
else shall ascribe to them a higher value than they claim
for themselves? They have resigned themselves to blind
and lawless chance, to make of them whatever chance may
bring forth.

As the right mode of thought is in itself right and good,
and needs no good works to exalt its value, although
such good works will never indeed be awanting, so is the
mode of thought which we have now described, in itself
worthless and despicable, arid there is no need of any par
ticular malignancy being superadded to it to make it
worthless and despicable ; and thus no one need here con
sole himself with the idea that though in this condition he
nevertheless does nothing evil, but perhaps, according to
his notions, even does what he calls good. This is indeed
the very sinful pride of this mode of thought, that these
men think they could sin if they would, and that we must
accord them great thanks if they refrain from doing so.
They mistake : they can do nothing whatever, for they
do not even exist, and there are no such realities as they
imagine themselves to be ; but, in their stead, there lives
and works blind and lawless chance ; and this manifests
itself, just as it happens, here as an evil and there as an
outwardly blameless phenomenon, without the phenome
non, the mere impress and shadow of a blindly operative

414 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

power, on that account deserving, in the first case blame,
or in the second case praise. Whether they shall prove
to be noxious or beneficent phenomena, we can know only
from the result, and it is of no importance. We know
assuredly that, in any case, they shall be without inward
Spiritual Life, in a state of vague incoherence and un
certainty; for that which rules within them, the blind
power of Nature, can manifest itself in no other way,
this tree can bear no other fruit.

That which renders this state of mind incurable, which
deprives it of all incitement towards a better, and closes it
against instruction from without, is the almost total inca
pacity which is associated with it, to apprehend in its true
sense, even historically, anything that lies beyond its own
mode of thought. They would think that they had cast
off all love of humanity, and had done the most grievous
injustice to an honourable man, were they to assume
that, however singularly he might express himself, he
could mean, or wish to mean, anything else than that
which they mean and say; or were they to ascribe to
any communication from other men any other purpose
than to repeat before them some old and well-known
lesson, so that they might be satisfied that the speaker
had thoroughly learned it by rote. Let a man guard
himself as he may by means of the most distinctly marked
antagonisms, let him exhaust all the resources of lan
guage to choose the strongest, most striking, and most
convincing expression, as soon as it reaches their ear it
loses its nature, and becomes changed into the old triviality;
and their art of dragging down everything to their own
level is triumphant over all other art. Therefore are they
in the highest degree averse to all powerful and energetic
expressions, and particularly to such as strive to enforce
comprehension by means of images; and, according to their
law, those expressions must everywhere be selected that
are most vague, indefinite, and far-fetched, and on that very

LECTURE VII. 415

account most powerless and insipid, under pain of appear
ing to be unpolished and obtrusive. Thus, when Jesus
spoke of eating his flesh and drinking his blood, his disci
ples found it a hard saying; and when he mentioned the
possibility of a union with God, the Jews took up stones
and cast them at him. They are always in the ri^ht ;
and since nothing whatever can or ought to be said at
any time but that which they already express in their
language in this way or that, whence then the surprising
effort to express this same thing in another fashion,
whereby there is only imposed upon them the superfluous
labour of translating it back again into their own speech ?
This delineation of spiritual Non-Existence, or, to use
the image of Christianity, of the Death and Burial of a
living body, has been here introduced, partly in order to
set forth the Spiritual Life more clearly by contrast, and
partly because it is itself a necessary element in that
description of man, in his relation to Weil-Being, which
it is our next duty to undertake. As a guide to this
description, we possess, and shall employ, those five stand
points in man s view of the World which we set forth
in our fifth lecture ; or, since the standpoint of Science
is excluded from popular discourses, the other four, as
so many standpoints in man s enjoyment of the World
and of himself. To them the state of spiritual Non-
Existence which we have just described does not at all
belong ; it is no possible or positive something, but a
mere nothing ; and so it is likewise altogether negative
in relation to enjoyment and Weil-Being. In it there is
no such thing as Love, whilst all enjoyment is founded
on Love. Hence, to this condition enjoyment is alto
gether impossible ; and therefore a description of it was
requisite at the outset, as the description of absolute joy-
lessness or unblessedness, in r opposition to the several
modes, now to be set forth, in which man may actually
enjoy the World or himself.

416 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

All enjoyment, I have said, is founded on Love. What
then is Love ? I say, Love is the affection (Affect) of
Being (Seyri). Argue it thus with me : Being (Seyri)
is self-reliant, self-sufficient, self-complete ; and needs no
Being beyond itself. Now let this be felt in absolute
Self-consciousness ; and what arises ? Obviously a feeling
of- this independence and self-sufficiency; hence, of
Love of this self; or, as I said, an affection or attach
ment of Being, by means of itself alone ; that is, the
feeling of Being as Being. Add further, that in the
Finite Being, such as we have described above, conceived
of as in a constant state of change and transition, there
likewise dwells an original ideal type of his True and
Proper Being, then does he love this ideal type; and
when his actual and sensible being is in harmony with
this ideal type, then is his Love satisfied, and it is well
with him ; but when, on the contrary, his actual being
is not in harmony with this primitive idea, which never
theless continues living, inextinguishable, and eternally
beloved within him, then it is not well with him, for
then he wants that which nevertheless he cannot hin
der himself from loving before all things, longing and sor
rowing after it continually. Well-being is union with the
object of our Love ; sorrow is separation from it. Only
through Love does man subject himself to the influence
of well-being or of sorrow ; he who does not love is secure
from both of these. But let no one believe that the wan
and death-like condition that we have described above,
which as it is without love is also without sorrow, is on
that account to be preferred to the life in Love, that is
accessible to sorrow, and may be wounded by it. For, in
the first place, even in the feeling of sorrow we at least
feel, recognise, and possess ourselves, and this of itself is
unspeakably more blessed than that absolute want of any
self-consciousness ; and, in the second place, this sorrow is
the wholesome spur that should impel us, and that sooner

LECTURE VII. 417

or later will impel us, to union with the object of our Love
and to Blessedness therein. Happy, therefore, is the man
who is able to sorrow and to aspire.

To the first standpoint from which man may view the
World, in which reality is attributed only to the objects of
OUTWARD SENSE, sensuous pleasure is of course the pre
dominant motive in his enjoyment of himself and of the
World. Even this, as we have already said with a scien
tific purpose, and in illustration of the first principle we
laid down of this whole matter, even this is founded on
an affection of Being, in this case, as an organized sen
suous life, on the love of this Being, and for the obvious
and direct means for the maintenance of this Being, not,
as some have supposed, perceived only by an unconscious
inference of the understanding. An article of food has
a pleasant taste to us, and a flower a pleasant smell, be
cause they exalt and enliven our organic existence ; and
the pleasant taste, as well as the pleasant smell, is no
thing but the immediate feeling of this exaltation and
enlivenment. But let us not longer pause at this mode
of enjoyment, which, although it certainly is a constituent
element in the system of Universal Life, and on that ac
count is perhaps not properly to be despised, is neverthe
less undeserving of deliberate thought or earnest atten
tion ! although I must candidly confess that, in a com
parative point of view, he who can throw himself wholly
and with undivided feeling into a sensuous enjoyment,
is, in my opinion, of far greater worth in the eyes of the
consequential philosopher than he who, from mere super
ficiality, vagrancy, and diffusiveness, is incapable of rightly
enjoying even taste or smell, where only taste or smell
can be enjoyed.

In the social state there intervenes between this merely
sensuous appetite and the higher forms of enjoyment,
another class of affections, interposed by means of fancy,
which however always relate at last to a sensuous enjoy-

418 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

ment, and proceed from such. Thus, for example, the
miser indeed voluntarily subjects himself to present want
for which he has no immediate desire, but only from fear
of future want for which he has still less desire ; and be
cause he has so strangely trained his fancy, that he suffers
more from this imagined future hunger than from the
real hunger that he actually feels at the present moment.
Neither let us pause any longer at these unsubstantial,
shallow, and capricious affections, even although they are
opposed to immediate sensuous enjoyment : all that be
longs to this region is alike shallow and capricious.

The second standpoint from which the World may be
viewed is that of LEGALITY, in which reality is attributed
only to a SPIRITUAL LAW ordering all actual Existence.
What is the affection of this standpoint, and what is its
consequent relation to Weil-Being ? For those among
you who possess philosophical knowledge, I shall here, in
passing, in a few short remarks and with strict conse
quentially, throw a new light on this matter which has
already been so well treated of by Kant.

From this standpoint, Man, in the deepest root of his
being, is himself the Law. This Law is the self-reliant,
self-supporting Being of such a man, which neither needs
nor can admit of any other Being whatever besides itself:
a Law absolutely for the sake of Law, and wholly dis
daining any purpose beyond itself.

In the first place : thus rooted in Law, man can still
be, think, and act. The philosopher who is not wholly
superficial proves this a priori; the man who is not
wholly rude or senseless feels it constantly in himself,
and proves it by his whole life and thought. The cele
brated axiom which, since this principle has been repro
duced in our own time by Kant and others, has been
brought forward and repeated usque ad nauseam by a
decisive majority of the theologians, philosophers, and
beaux-esprits of the age, the axiom that it is absolutely

LECTUKE VII. 419

impossible for a man to will without having an external
object of his volition, or to act without having an external
object of his action this axiom we need not meddle
with, but have only to meet it with cold and contemp
tuous rejection. Whence do they know what they so
categorically maintain, and how do they propose to prove
their axiom ? They know it only from their knowledge of
themselves ; and hence they ask nothing from an oppo
nent but that he should look into his own bosom and find
himself such as they are. They cannot do it, and there
fore they maintain that no man can do it. But again :

what is it they cannot do ? Will and act without an object
beyond the action. And what is there that lies beyond
will and action, and mental independence? Nothing what
ever but sensuous well-being, for this is the only opposite
of these : sensuous well-being, I say, however strangely
it may be described, and even although the time and
place of its fruition may be placed beyond the crave.
And thus, what is it which they have discovered in this
knowledge of themselves ? Answer : that they cannot
even think, move, nor in any way bestir themselves, un
less with a view to some outward well-beiner which is

O

thereby to be attained ; that they cannot regard them
selves as anything but the means and instruments of
some sensuous enjoyment ; and that, according to their
firm conviction, the Spiritual in them exists only for the
purpose of nursing and tending on the Animal. Who
shall dispute their self-knowledge, or attempt to gainsay
them in that which they must know best of all, and
which, in truth, only they themselves can know ?

Man, on the second standpoint from which the World
may be viewed, is himself the Law, we said ; a living,
self-conscious, self-attached Law, or an affection of Law.
But the affection of Law, as Law, and in this form, is,
as I call upon you to perceive, an absolute command, an
unconditional obligation, a Categorical Imperative; which,

420 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

on account of this very categorical nature of its form,
wholly rejects all love or even inclination towards the
thing commanded. It shall be, that is all : simply it shall.
If thou wouldst do it, there would be no need of the shall;
it would come too late, and would be rejected; while, on the
contrary, as surely as thou, on thy part, obeyest the shall,
and canst so obey, so surely dost thou not will ; volition is
superfluous, inclination and love are expressly laid aside.

Now, could man wholly resign himself with his entire
Life to this affection of Law, there would then be for
him nothing beyond this cold and rigid commandment;
and, with regard to his view of himself and of the World,
the absolutely uninterested judgment whether a thing
be in accordance with the Law or not ; wholly exclud
ing all personal inclination and every thought of it being
agreeable or disagreeable ; as indeed is actually the case
where men give themselves up to this affection. Such
an one, notwithstanding his strict acceptance of the
Law, might yet declare that he did not, and would not,
act in accordance with it, without anything like remorse
or displeasure with himself ; and indeed with the same
coolness with which he might acknowledge that some
thousand years before his birth, and in a remote quarter
of the world, some other person had not performed the
obligation imposed upon him. But, in actual life, this
affection is usually conjoined with an interest in our
selves and our own personality ; which latter interest then
assumes the nature of the first affection, and becomes
modified thereby ; so that the view we take of ourselves,
while it remains indeed a mere judgment, which it must
be in virtue of the first affection, is yet not wholly an
uninterested judgment; we are constrained to despise
ourselves if we do not walk according to the Law, and
we are free from this self-contempt if we act in har
mony with it ; and we would much rather find ourselves
in the latter position than in the former.

LECTURE VII. 421

The interest which man feels in himself, we said, is
swallowed up in this affection of Law. He desires only
not to be constrained to despise himself before the tribunal
of the Law. Not to despise himself, I say, negatively;
he cannot seek to respect himself, positively. Where-
ever positive self-respect is spoken of, it is only, and can
only be, the absence of self-contempt that is meant. For
the judgment of which we here speak is founded solely
on the Law, which is absolute, and assumes jurisdiction
over the whole of humanity. There is no third course:
either man is not in harmony with the Law, and then
he must despise himself; or he is in harmony with it,
and then he has nothing to allege against himself; but,
in his fulfilment of the Law, he can by no means trans
cend its requirements in aught, and do something beyond
what he is bound to do, which would thus be done without
commandment, and hence be a free and voluntary act ;
and therefore he can never positively respect himself,
nor honour himself as something excellent.

The interest which man feels in himself is swallowed up
in the affection of Law; this affection annuls all inclina
tion, all love, and all desire. There is but one thing need
ful to him not to despise himself; beyond this he wills
nothing, needs nothing, and can use nothing. In that one
want of his nature, however, he is dependent on himself
alone ; for an Absolute Law, by which man is wholly
encompassed, must necessarily represent him as entirely
free. By means of this conception he is now elevated
above all love, desire, and want, and thus above all that is
external to him and that does not depend on himself;
needing nothing but himself; and thus, by the extinction
of everything in him that was dependent, himself truly in
dependent, exalted above all things, and like the blessed
Gods. It is only unsatisfied wants that produce un-
happiness : require then nothing but that which thou
thyself canst secure, (thou canst, however, make sure

422 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

only of this, that thou shalt have no fault to find with
thyself), and thou art for ever inaccessible to unhappi-
ness. Thou hast no need of anything beyond thyself;
not even of a God, for thou art thine own God,
thine own salvation, and thine own Redeemer.

No one who can justly lay claim to the amount of his
torical knowledge which every educated man is presumed
to possess, can have failed to perceive that I have now
set forth the mode of thought peculiar to that celebrated
system of antiquity Stoicism. A venerable picture of
this mode of thought is the representation, made by an
ancient poet, of the mythical Prometheus, who, in the
consciousness of his own just and good deed, laughs at
the Thunderer seated above the clouds, and at all the
torments heaped upon his head by the relentless God ;
and who, with undaunted courage, sees a world crashing
around him into ruins, and, in the language of one of
our own poets, thus addresses Zeus :

" Here I sit, forming men
After my image;
A race that, like me,
Shall suffer, weep,
Enjoy and rejoice,
And despise thee, Zeus !
As I do."*

You have sufficiently understood that to us this mode
of thought stands only upon the second grade in the
possible views of the World, and is only the first and
lowest form of the higher Spiritual Life. You have
already, in our former lecture, received indications of a
far more earnest and perfect Life, which shall be further
developed in the succeeding lectures. Yet it is not our
intention to surrender this mode of thought, which is in
deed worthy of all honour, to the fashionable scorn of
spiritual perversion, nor even to leave a single lurking-

* Goethe s " Prometheus."

LECTURE VII. 423

place open to such perversion. With this view I add
the following.

It is unquestionably true that this mode of thought
can arrive at the admission of a God only through in-
i/ consequentially; and that, wherever it is consistent
although it may at times make use of the conception of
a God, perhaps for the theoretical explanation of Nature,
but assuredly never for its own practical need of such
a conception, yet it needs no God for its own heart,
reverences none, and is indeed its own God. But what
sort of God is that which it rejects? It is no other,
and can be no other because on this standpoint no
other is possible than the arbitrary distributor of sen
suous well-being, whom we have already described, whose
favour must be acquired by means of some expedient:
even if that expedient be a behaviour in accordance with
the Law, it is still but an expedient. This God, so con
stituted, is rightly rejected ; he ought to be rejected, for
he is not God; and the higher view of the World never
again accepts God in this shape, as we, in the proper
place, shall clearly see. Stoicism does not reject the
truth, but only the lie ; it does not attain to the truth,
but remains, with relation to it, only in a negative posi
tion ; this is its defect.

Thus also, the delusion of a certain system that calls
itself Christian, that sensuous desire is sanctified by
means of Christianity, and its satisfaction entrusted to a
God, and that it has discovered the secret that it may
serve this God even by indulgence of this desire ; this
delusion too, I say, remains an error. The happiness
which the sensuous man seeks is irrevocably separated
from the Blessedness which Eeligion does not indeed
promise, but immediately presents, by the gulf of sub
jection to a Sacred Law before which all desire grows
dumb; separated, not in degree, but in its very nature.
And thus do those who, as philosophers, teach this same

424 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

doctrine, and who in the most animated appeals seek to
convince us that, by our demands, we would destroy the
essential character of human nature, and tear its very
heart from its body, besides their fitting despicableness
make themselves also ridiculous. So also those beaux-
esprits, who raise an outcry about the extirpation of love
by means of Stoicism meaning by this love, not the
flame of Divine Love, of which we shall afterwards speak,
but only mere earthly love and desire and who believe
that, since a child who innocently extends its little hands
towards an offered dainty in a touching and therefore a
pleasing spectacle, so may the grown man, who behaves in
Like manner, demand the moral approval of the earnest
censor, and that whatever is capable of affording the be
holder a pleasing sesthetical spectacle is, on that account,

in itself noble and good, these, I say, are lost in the

most singular confusion of ideas.

Thus much had I to say, with reference to Well-Being,
regarding the second standpoint from which the World
may be viewed by man ; which, in this respect, is only
negative, mere Apathy : and I desired to set forth this
strictly and clearly, in order, by means of this Apathy, as
the middle state, to distinguish the Vulgar from the Holy,
and to set up an insurmountable wall of separation be
tween them. Wherein this Apathy is limited, and how it
thereby becomes an impulse towards the development of
a Higher Life in the Divine Love ; of this we shall speak
in our next lecture.

(425)

LECTURE VIII.

EXPOSITION OF FORM AS THE UNIVERSAL CONDITION

OF EXISTENCE ; FREEDOM AND INDEPENDENCE

OF THE EGO ; CATEGORICAL IMPERATIVE ;

PASSAGE TO THE HIGHER MORALITY.

THE entire purpose and import of these Lectures may be
thus briefly stated : to give a description of the One,
True, and therefore Blessed Life. Every good description,
however, ought to be genetic, and gradually unfold the
matter described before the eyes of the beholders. The
true Spiritual Life is peculiarly susceptible of such a ge
netic description ; for it develops itself, as we said before,
figuratively, as it then seemed, but, as it now appears,
with very literal earnestness, this Life develops itself
as a rule only gradually, having its several determinate
stations. As these stations of the Spiritual Life, we
have recognized five chief standpoints in man s possible
view of the World ; and through these we have traced
the ascent of Life, at first in a mere cold and uninter
ested survey ; but in the preceding lecture we have, in
place of this merely intellectual view, taken cognizance
of its affections, its love, and its self-enjoyment ; and
thereby we have, for the first time, completed the form
of Life. This Life, thus defined, we have followed, in

kb

426 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

our last lecture, through the conditions of Nullity, of mere
Sensuous Enjoyment, and of strict Legality or harmony
with an assumed Law.

As such a description of the Spiritual Life ascends to
its higher forms, it becomes, for obvious reasons, more
obscure and unintelligible to a majority of a degenerate
age, because it now enters upon regions which are foreign
to such an age, not known to it, either by its own
spiritual experience, or even by hearsay. Thus it be
comes the duty of those who undertake to speak of such
subjects, if they must resign the hope of being positively
understood by all men, at least to guard carefully against
themselves giving occasion for any misconception ; and,
if they cannot bring home the truth to all, yet to take
care that no one, through their fault, is led to receive
anything false ; and at least so to equip and prepare
those who possess the power of fully comprehending their
instructions, that these shall be able, each in his own
circle, to give an account of the truth, and to correct the
misapprehensions of others. This consideration has de
termined me to devote a portion of this lecture to a pro
found and exhaustive exposition of the matter which, in
our last lecture, we brought to its culminating point,
and have still to treat of in this.

Those among you who are already initiated into spec
ulative science shall, on this occasion, be introduced into
the organic central-point of all speculation, in such a
manner as, to my knowledge, has never and nowhere
been attempted before. The others, who either are un
able, or do not desire, to philosophize with us, may at
least avail themselves of the opportunity thus present
ed to them of listening to a strictly philosophical de
monstration, in order to acquire a general conception of
the matter, and to be convinced that, when rightly con
ducted, it is by no means so strange and artificial a
thing as is commonly supposed, but proceeds in a quite

LECTURE VIII. 427

simple and natural manner, and requires in the student
nothing more than the power of sustained attention.
Nevertheless it will be necessary that even they who be
long to this latter class should apprehend what is now to
be said, historically at least, because before the conclusion
of the lecture we shall come to something which all will
wish to understand, but which cannot be understood un
less the first part has been at least historically appre
hended, and assumed as a possible hypothesis.

We have seen and understood -.that Being (Seyn) is
absolutely ; that it has never arisen nor become, nor has
anything in it ever arisen or become. But further, this
Being is also outwardly present, e-ists, as may be dis
covered and perceived, but not genetically understood ;
and after it has been thus discovered and perceived as
ex-isting there present, then it may also be understood
that this Ex-istence (Daseyri) has likewise not arisen
nor become, but is founded in the inward necessity of
Being (Seyri) itself, and is, through it, absolutely deter
mined. By means of its thus ex-isting, and in this Ex
istence, Being now becomes Consciousness; and that a
Consciousness separated and broken up into a manifold
variety of Forms : and this may, in like manner, be seen
and understood as the necessary result of Ex-istence.

In order that we may not have constantly to repeat
the same series of words, we shall now comprehend under
the term Form everything that attaches to Being in con
sequence of Ex-istence ; which word, Form, shall hence
forward signify all that we have already seen to be the
necessary result of Ex-istence. (I may here mention, for
the benefit of those who do not enter with us into the
strictly philosophical view of our subject, that this is the
case with all philosophical terminology; its expressions
are only abbreviations of speech, employed to recall to
mind briefly something which has been previously appre
hended in immediate contemplation; and to him who has

428 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

not been a partaker in this immediate contemplation, but
to him alone, they are empty, unmeaning, formulas.)

Thus we have these two elements : Being, as it is
essentially and in itself, and Form, which is assumed
by the former in consequence of its Ex-istence. But how
have we expressed ourselves ? What is it that assumes
a Form ? Answer : Being, as it is in itself, without any
change Avhatever of its inward Essential Nature : this
must be borne in mind. But what then is there in
Ex-istence ? Answer : Nothing else than the One,
Eternal and Unchangeable Being, besides which there
can be nothing. Again : May this Eternal Being ex-ist
otherwise than in this precise Form ? How were that
possible, since this Form is nothing else than Ex-istence
itself; and consequently the assertion, that Being could
also ex-ist in another Form, would be equivalent to
saying, that Being could ex-ist, and yet not ex-ist ?
Let us call Being A, and Form, I mean universal
Form, apprehended in its unity, B ; then Eeal Ex
istence iuAxB and BxA, or A as determined by B,
and the reverse. Determined, I say emphatically, so
that your thoughts may now proceed, not from one of
the extremes, but from the central-point ; and you may
thus understand, that in Reality both these elements are
united, and reciprocally interpenetrated by each other,
so that in Reality, and indeed without the annihilation
of the Reality of Existence, they can never again be
separated. This is the point upon which everything de
pends ; this is the organic central-point of all Specula
tion ; and he who thoroughly penetrates to this, has
attained perfect light.

To make this yet stronger : God himself, that is, the
Essential Nature of the Absolute, which is separated
from his outward Ex-istence only by our limited compre
hension, cannot throw off this absolute blending of Es
sence with Form ; for even his Ex-istence, which only

LECTURE VIII. 429

to the first merely phenomenal glance seems contingent
and phenomenal, is yet to true Thought, which is the only
decisive criterion, not contingent, but, since it is, and
otherwise could not be, it must be a necessary result of his
inward Essential Nature. By reason therefore of God s Es
sential Nature itself, this Essential Nature is inseparably
bound up with Form, and has of itself entered into Form ;
which to those who are able to comprehend it, thoroughly
solves the highest difficulty of Speculation which has ex
isted from the beginning of the world down to the present
day, and confirms our previous commentary on the words
of John : " In the beginning, absolutely independent of
all possibility of opposition, of all caprice, of all contin
gency, and therefore of all Time, founded on the inward
necessity of the Divine Nature itself, was Form ; and
Form was with God, contained in, established on, and
its very Ex-istence proceeding from, the inward determi
nate character of the Divine Nature; and Form was
itself God ; God manifested himself in it even as he is in
himself."

For example: One portion of Form was the infinitely
progressive and continuous manifestation and characteri
zation of Being, which in itself eternally remains the same,
= A. I ask you, that you may hereby test your know
ledge of the subject : In this Infinite Manifestation and
characterization, what is the real and active principle
that is manifested and characterized ? Is it Form ? This,
in itself, is nothing. No : it is the Absolute Reality = A,
that manifests itself as it essentially is ; manifests itself,
I say, according to the law of an Infinity. Nothing does
not manifest itself; but the Essential Divine Nature
manifests itself.

Out of this Infinity, take, wherever you will, the sub
stance of any one particular moment. This substance,
let it be understood, is wholly determined; it is that which
it is, and nothing else. I ask : Wherefore is it that which

430 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

it is, and by what has it been thus determined ? You can
give no answer but this : By two factors ; in the first
place, because the Absolute, in its Essential Nature, is
as it is ; and, in the second place, because this same Abso
lute flows forth in an Infinite Manifestation. After deduct
ing that element of the substance of the moment which
proceeds from the Essential Nature of the Absolute, what
remains in this moment i. e. that in it which is purely
and simply Manifestation is that which especially be
longs to this moment out of the infinite multiplicity of
Form.

We have said that this infinite divisibility is the one
portion of Form ; and we made use of this portion as an
example, in order thereby to make our fundamental prin
ciple more distinct. For our present purpose, however,
we require the second portion of Form, to which we must
also apply the fundamental principle we have laid down,
and which is now, we hope, understood ; to which end I
must again lay claim to your attention.

This second portion of Form is a division into five col
lateral but as dominant points reciprocally exclusive
standpoints in the view of Reality. Collateral, but as
dominant points reciprocally exclusive : it is of im
portance that this should here be borne in mind. We
have already proved this above ; and indeed it is imme
diately evident at the first glance. Once more then :
What is it that is divided in this new division ? Obvi
ously the Absolute, as it is in itself; the same Abso
lute which, in the same unity and completeness of Form,
divides itself likewise to Infinity. Of this there can be
no doubt. But how are these points presented to us :
are they presented as actual, like the entire Infinity that
flows through Time ? No, for they reciprocally exclude
each other, as dominant, in one and the same moment
of Time; and hence, in relation to the fulfilment of all
moments of Time by any one of them, they are all as-

LECTURE VIII. 431

sumed only as equally possible; and Being appears, in
relation to each of them individually, not as necessarily
to be so understood, nor as actually so understood, but
only as possibly to be so understood. Specially : Does
then the One Being, which is indeed irrevocably broken
up into an Infinite Time, itself assume this first mode,

or this second mode, and so on ? Certainly not : this

Being is, in and through itself, perfectly undetermined
and wholly indifferent with regard to these modes of its
acceptation. In this relation, Reality proceeds only the
length of Possibility, not further. It thus assumes, by
means of its Ex-istence, the existence of a Freedom
and Independence in the mode of its acceptation, or in
the way in which it is reflected/ wholly independent of
itself in its inward Essential Nature. And now to ex
press the same thing more strictly : The Absolute
Being, in this its Ex-istence, regards itself as this Ab
solute Freedom and Independence in the mode of its
own acceptation, and as this Independence of its own
inward Being ; it does not create a Freedom external
to itself, but it is itself, in this portion of Form, its own
Freedom external to itself; and in this respect, the self
in its Ex-istence is separated from the self in its Being,
and is projected, as it were, out of itself, in order to re
turn again to itself as a living Ex-istence. Now, the uni
versal form of Reflexion is Ego ; hence we have here
a free and independent Ego; or, what is the same
thing, an Ego, and that which alone is an Ego, a free
and independent Ego, belongs to Absolute Form=j5, and
is the peculiar organic central-point of the Absolute
Form of Absolute Being ; since even that division into
an Infinite Manifold which we placed by the side of this
second portion of Form, is, according to our own deduc
tion, founded upon the independence of the Form of
Reflexion ; and, according to the above remarks, is in
separable from the inward necessity of the Divine Na-

432 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

ture, so that it cannot be cast off even by God himself.

It is convenient, in passing, to note the following prin
ciples : (1.) Freedom certainly and truly exists, and is it
self the very root of Ex-istence : but yet it is not imme
diately real, for in it Reality proceeds only the length of
Possibility. The paradox apparently contained in this
latter principle will be solved of itself as we proceed in
our inquiry. (2.) Freedom, in Time, and as an inde
pendent, self-determining fulfilment of Time, exists only
in relation to the five standpoints of Spiritual Life
which we have set forth, and only in so far as it arises
out of these : but it does not exist outside that five
fold division, for beyond that there is nothing but the
inwardly determined Absolute Being, in the likewise un
changeably determined Form of Infinity and of Time
immediately filled by Reality itself; nor does it exist
within that division, the Ego being then established in
one of these points, for, here again, there is nothing
but strict necessity and sequence from principle.

This in passing, on account of its importance in an
other connexion, and also because it does not seem to be
very well understood. Not however in passing, but as-
belonging essentially to our present subject, we add the
following, to which I must anew demand your attention :
(1.) Since this Independence and Freedom of the Ego
belongs to its essential Being, and all Being has its
Affection (Affect) in Consciousness, there must neces
sarily exist, in so far as there is an immediate Con
sciousness of personal, individual Freedom, an Affection
for such Independence, the Love of it, and consequent
Faith in it. In so far as there is such an immediate
Consciousness of personal, individual Freedom, I say :
for (2.) and this is the chief object of our whole in
quiry, and the true end of all that has gone before,
and therefore I beg of you to note it well, this Free
dom and Independence is nothing but the mere possibi-

LECTURE VIII. 433

lity of the Standpoint of Life ; this possibility, however, is
limited to the five modes already pointed out, and hence,
if any one has completed the comprehension of Life
according to this scheme, he has at the same time com
pleted the round of possibility and passed into reality ;
he has expended his power and exhausted his estate of
Freedom, there is in the root of his Ex-istence no more
Freedom remaining; but with the Being of Freedom
there also necessarily disappears the Affection, the Love,
and the Faith in this Freedom, doubtless to give place
to a far holier Love and a far more bliss-giving Faith.
So long as the Ego has yet to labour, by its own original
self-activity, in moulding itself to the perfect Form of
Reality, there indeed remains in it the impulse towards
such self-activity, the unsatisfied impulse, as a salutary
impelling spur, and the intimate self-consciousness of
Freedom, which consciousness, in this position of the
matter, is absolutely true and without delusion ; but
when this self-discipline has been completed, then that
consciousness, which would now certainly become decep
tive, disappears; and henceforward Reality flows forth
before it in the sole remaining and indestructible Form
of Infinity.

Thus, and I now announce this result as what may
be understood by all, and not by the speculative portion
of my audience only, thus the presence of an Affection,
a Love, and a Faith in personal, individual Freedom on
the one hand, and the absence of such Affection on the
other, are the fundamental points of two entirely oppo
site modes of viewing and enjoying the World, into which
I shall now combine more strictly our previous five-fold
division.

In the first place, with regard to the condition of the
Presence of the Affection for personal, individual Freedom :
this again has two different forms, (you will observe
that this is a subordinate division in the first section of

t 5

434 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

the principal division) the first and lower of which I
thus explain to you. The Ego, as the subject of this
Freedom, is, as you know, Reflexion. This, as you also
know, in its first function, forms, determines, and cha
racterizes the World. Within these forms, and in the
exercise of this formative function, the particular Ego
here to be described by us is a proper and independent
Being ; and this, its determinate Being, it on that very
account, embraces with Love ; and thus acquires an im
pulse towards, and a need of, this determinate Being.
Again : What kind of Being is this ? Being in a deter
minate Form of its Life. Whence the need of this
Form ? From its self-love in this standpoint of its Free
dom. If the need were satisfied, what would be the
result ? Enjoyment. Whence would this Enjoyment
arise ? From a certain modification of its Life by means
of the World which it has itself formed, that is, of the
objective, divided, and manifold World. Herein lies the
foundation of the sensuous instinct of man, and this is
the true creator of the World of Sense. Thus there
arises the desire and need of a certain and determinate
Form of our Life this is the important point, the cha
racteristic feature, to which I entreat your attention,
the impulse towards Happiness in determinate, and by
means of determinate, objects. That the objective deter
mination of this impulse towards Happiness is not with
out foundation, but rests upon the Reality still remaining
in this Form of Independence, is understood : as also
this, that since, in this Form of the progressive devel
opment of the World, there is an uninterrupted course
of change, the Ego itself likewise unceasingly becomes
changed ; and, on that account, that also in which it is
compelled to place its Happiness gradually changes ; and
in the course of this change the first objects of desire
are set aside, and others take their place. From this
absolute uncertainty respecting the particular object in

LECTURE VIII.

which the source of Happiness is to be found a concep
hon is at last arrived at, in this respect completely empty
and indefiDite,-but which yet retains this fundamental
characteristic, that Happiness is to arise from some de
terminate object; the conception of a Life in which all
our wants, whatever they may be, are to be satisfied upon
the spot, an absence of all grief, all weariness, and all
toil, the Islands of the Blessed and the Elysian Fields
of the Greeks, the Abraham s bosom of the Jews, the
Heaven of the ordinary Christians. At this stage the
Freedom and Independence are material The second
mode of the Presence of the Affection for personal, in-
dividual Freedom and Independence is that in which the
feeling and love of this Freedom is only general, and
therefore bare, empty, and formal, without any definite
object ^ being thereby either proposed or striven after.
This gives the standpoint of Legality described at the
end of the last lecture, and which, recalling its better
known name, we also called that of Stoicism. Here
man regards himself as free, in general, for he assume/
that he has the power to refuse obedience to the Law;
he consequently separates himself from, and places him
self, as an independent power, over against the Law, or
whatever may appear to him as Law. He cannot other
wise comprehend and regard himself than as one who
has it in his power to refuse obedience to the Law, I
said. But, according to his likewise necessary view of
things, he is bound to obey the Law and not follow his
own inclination ; he therefore loses all claim to Hap- .
piness, and, if his professed doctrine be actually living
within him, he loses also the need of Happiness, and of
a God who is the author and giver of Happiness. But
through that first supposition of his ability to refuse
obedience, there also arises to him, for the first time, a
Law ; for his Freedom, bereft of inclination, is now
empty and without aim. He must once more control it ;

436 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

and constraint upon Freedom, or Law, is one and the
same thing. Hence it is only through that Faith in
Freedom, which still remains after the surrender of in
clination, that he makes a Law possible for himself, and
gives to his view of true Reality the form of a Law.

Comprehend this profoundly, and therefore fully and
clearly, thus : (1.) The Divine Nature does not enter,
whole and undivided, into these reciprocally exclusive
points of Freedom, but it enters them partially only :
beyond these points, however, it reveals itself, uncon
cealed by any veil whatever (every such veil having its
foundation only in these points), such as it is in itself,
in an infinitely progressive development and Manifesta
tion in this Form of eternal, progressive Life which is
inseparable from its pure, internal Life. This eternal
forth-flowing of the Divine Life is the true, innermost
and deepest root of Ex-istence, the absolutely indisso
luble union of Essence with Form which we have referred
to above. This Being of Ex-istence, like all other Being,
obviously carries with it the Affection of itself; it is the
abiding, eternal, and unchangeable Will of the Absolute
Reality thus continuously to develop itself, as it neces
sarily must develop itself. (2.) So long as any Ego
whatever occupies any one of the points of Freedom, he
has still a personal, individual Being, which is a partial
and imperfect Ex-istence of the Divine Ex-istence, and
hence really a negation of Being ; and such an Ego has
also an affection for this Being, and an abiding and
unchangeable will to maintain this his Ex-istence. This
his actual will, ever present with him, is hence by no
means identical with the abiding Affection and Will of
the perfect Divine Ex-istence. (3.) Should an Ego,
occupying this standpoint, be nevertheless capable of
willing in conformity with that Eternal Will, yet could
this never come to pass by means of his mere passive
will, but this Ego must first make the Eternal Will his

LECTURE VIII.

437

own by means of a third intervening volition, usually
called a determination of the Will Exactly in this case
stands the votary of Law; and he becomes so just because
he stands in this case. Since he professes,-and this is
the peculiar root of his whole mode of thought, and that
whereby we must comprehend bim,-since he professes
that he is also able to refuse obedience, which (since
we have nothing to do here with mere physical power
the dependence of which upon will we must assume), is
obviously equivalent to saying that he also has it in his
power to will such disobedience, to which assertion, as
the immediate expression of his self-consciousness, we
must doubtless accord faith, this profession is equivalent
to saying that it is not his predominant and ever-present
will to obey ; -for who can act contrary to his own will,
and who can think in opposition to his own ever-present
and continually active will ? Not that he is disinclined
to obedience ; for then another, and indeed sensuous
desire would necessarily bear sway in him, which is con
trary to the supposition, since he would then not be even
a moral being, but would require to be maintained in

order and discipline by means of outward compulsion ;

but only that he is not positively inclined to it, and occu
pies a position of mere indifference. In consequence of
this indifference of his own actually present will, does
that other Will become to him a foreign behest, which he
at first regards as a Law to his own naturally inactive
will ; and to the fulfilment of which he must first pro
duce in himself the will that is naturally awanting, by
means of a positive determination. And thus, the in
difference towards the Eternal Will, which still remains
after actual renunciation of the Sensuous Will, is the
source of a Categorical Imperative within us; as the
faith which we still retain in our own, at least formal,
Independence, is the source of that indifference.

Just as this faith disappears by means of the highest

438 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

crowning act of Freedom, does the previously existing
Ego likewise disappear in the pure Divine Ex-istence ;
and we can no longer say, strictly speaking, that the
Affection, the Love, and the Will of this Divine Ex-ist
ence is ours, since there are no longer two Ex-istences
and two Wills ; but now one Ex-istence, and one and the
same Will, is all in all. So long as man cherishes the
desire of being himself something, God comes not to
him, for no man can become God. But so soon as he
renounces himself sincerely, wholly, and radically, then
God alone remains, and is all in all. Man can create
no God for himself; but he can renounce himself as the
proper negation, and then he is wholly absorbed in God.

This self-renunciation is the entrance into the Higher
Life which is wholly opposed to the lower life, the lat
ter taking its distinctive character from the existence of
a self ; and it is, according to our former mode of compu
tation, the attainment of the Third standpoint in the
view of the World; that of the pure and HIGHER
MORALITY.

The peculiar and essential nature of this Morality, and
of the Blessedness which dwells in the central-point of
this world, we shall describe in our next lecture. At
present we shall only point out the relation of this
standpoint to the lower and sensuous world. I hope that
I have already laid my foundation so deep, that I shall
not fail of success in my subsidiary purpose of taking
away all possible subterfuge from the common practice of
confounding together Blessedness and Happiness. This
mode of thought, which, when a more earnest sentiment
conies over it, would rather not have said what it is yet
continually saying, loves much a charitable twilight, and
a certain indefmiteness of conception ; and it is therefore
the more desirable to drag it forth into clear light, and
to separate ourselves from it with the strictest precision.
Its supporters would indeed willingly accommodate the

LECTURE VIII.

439

matter -we know it well,-they do not wish to cast
aside the spirit altogether,- we are not so unjust as to
accuse them of that,-but neither will they give up aught
of the flesh. We however neither will nor can accommo
date the matter ; for these two things are utterly irrecon
cilable, and he who would possess the one must renounce
the other.

The view of himself, as a person existing for his own
sake and in a World of Sense, does indeed still remain
for him who has attained the third standpoint; for this
is a necessary and inevitable part of Form ; but the Love
and Affection for it are here no longer felt. What is
now to him this person, and all sensuous activity ? Ob
viously, only means for the purpose of doing that which
he himself wills and loves above all else, namely the
Will of God manifesting itself in him; just as this per.
sonahty is to the Stoic only the means of obeying the
Law : and both are herein alike, and of equal value in
our estimation. To the sensuous man, on the contrary,
his personal sensuous Ex-istence is his ultimate and
especial object, and everything else which he does or be
lieves beyond it, is to him but the means for the fulfil
ment of that object.

It is wholly impossible, arid an absolute contradiction,
that any one should love in two different directions, or
hold two opposite purposes. The Love of God which we
have described entirely extirpates personal Self-love.
For only by the renunciation of the latter do we attain
the former. Again, where personal Self-love is, there the
Love of God is not ; for the latter suffers no other Love
beside it.

This, as we have formerly observed, is the fundamental
{character of sensuous Self-love, that it requires a Life
fashioned in a particular way, and seeks its Happiness
in a particular object ; while, on the contrary, the Love
of God regards every form of Life and all objects but as

440 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

means; and knows that all that is is the proper and
necessary means ; and therefore never desires any object
determined in this or that particular way, but accepts
all as they present themselves.

"What then would the sensuous man who requires an
objective enjoyment do, were he indeed a man, and con
sistent ? I should think that, relying upon himself alone,
he would exert all his strength to gather around him the
objects of his enjoyment; enjoy what he had, and be
content to do without that which was beyond his reach.
But what happens to him, if he be also a superstitious
child ? He persuades himself that the objects of his en
joyment are in the gift of a God who will indeed grant
tli em to him, but who for this service demands some
thing from him in exchange : he alleges that there has
been a covenant made with him on the subject ; he
adduces a collection of writings as the voucher of this
pretended covenant.

When he fully accepts this idea, how is it then with
him ? Enjoyment still remains his especial object, and
his duty to his imagined God only the means for the
attainment of this object. This must be confessed,
there is no escaping it. It will not do to say, as is
frequently said : " I desire that the Will of God be done
for its own sake ; I wish Happiness only by the way"
Setting aside for a moment thy " by the way" thou yet
admittest that thou wishest Happiness because it is
Happiness ; and because thou believest that, having it,
it will be well with thee ; and because thou wouldst will
ingly have it well with thee. But then thou certainly
dost not desire that the Will of God be done for its own
sake alone ; for then thou couldst not desire Happiness,
since the first desire supersedes and destroys the second ;
and it is absolutely impossible that that which is de
stroyed can exist beside, and be associated with, its de
stroyer. Dost thou also wish, as thou sayest, that the

LECTURE VIII. 441

Will of God be done ? then thou canst wish this only
because thou believest that thou canst not otherwise ob
tain that which thou especially desirest, namely Happi
ness ; and because this wish is imposed upon thee by
the desire by which thou art more especially animated ;
thou wishest therefore the Will of God only " ~by the
way" and because thou art constrained to do so ; but
from the bottom of thy heart, and with thy own good
will, thou wishest only for Happiness.

It is nothing to the purpose that this Happiness is re
moved far from immediate sight, and even placed in
another world beyond the grave, where it is thought
that it may be possible to confound the two ideas with
less trouble. Whatever you may say with regard to this
your Heaven, or rather whatever you may not say, in
order that your true meaning may not come to light,
yet the single circumstance that you make it dependent
upon Time, and place it in another world, proves alread} r
incontrovertibly that it is a Heaven of sensuous enjoy
ment. Here Heaven is not, you say; but yonder it
shall be. I pray you, What then is that which can be
different yonder from what it is here ? Obviously, only
the objective constitution of the world, as the environ
ment of our existence. It must therefore, according to
your opinion, be the objective constitution of the present
world which makes it unfit for a Heaven, and the objec
tive constitution of the future world which makes it fit
for that purpose; and thus you cannot any longer con
ceal that your Happiness depends upon outward circum
stances and therefore is a sensuous enjoyment. Did you
seek your Blessedness there where alone it is to be found,
solely in God and in his Manifestation, but by no means
in the mere casual Form in which he is manifested,
then would you not need to refer yourselves to another
Life, for God is even now to-day, as he shall be in all
Eternity. I assure you, and remember my words when

Jc b

442 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

it shall come to pass, just as, in the second Life to
which you may have attained, you will again make your
Happiness dependent on outward circumstances, you shall
fare just as ill there as you do here ; and you will then
console yourselves with a third Life, and in the third
with a fourth, and so on for ever; for God neither can
nor will confer Blessedness by means of outward circum
stances, since he desires, on the contrary, to give us Him
self independent of all Form.

In a word: this mode of thought, thrown into the form
of a prayer, would thus express itself : " Lord ! let but
my will be done, and that throughout an Eternity which
on that account shall be blessed; and in return thou
shalt have Thy Will in this short and wearisome present
Time." And this is manifest immorality, senseless super
stition, irreligion, and actual blasphemy of the holy and
bliss-giving Will of God.

On the contrary, the expression of the constant mind
of the truly Moral and Religious Man is this prayer :
" Lord ! let but Thy Will be done, then is mine done
also, for I have no other will than this, that Thy Will
be done." This Divine Will is necessarily done now
and for ever ; in the first place, in the Inward Life of
this man thus devoted to it, of which in our next
lecture ; and then what immediately belongs to our
present subject in everything that meets him in his
Outward Life. All these events are nothing else than
the necessary and unalterable Outward Manifestation of
the Divine Work fulfilling itself in him ; and he cannot
wish that anything in these events should be otherwise
than what it is, without wishing that the Inward Life,
which can only thus manifest itself, should be otherwise,
and without thereby separating his will from the Will
of God, and setting it in opposition thereto. He cannot
any longer reserve to himself a choice in these things,
for he must accept everything just as it happens ; for

LECTURE VIII. 443

everything that comes to pass is the Will of God with
him and therefore the best that can possibly come to
pass To those who love God, all things must work
together for good, absolutely and immediately.

To those also, in whom the Will of God is not inwardly
accomplished, because there is indeed no Inward Life in
them, but who are altogether mere outward tiling -to
them also the Will of God is done outwardly, as alone it
can reach them ; appearing at first sight ungracious and
chastening, but in reality in the highest degree merciful
and loving ;-while with them matters grow worse and
worse, and they weary themselves out, and even render
themselves despicable and ridiculous, in the vain chase
after a good which ever floats before their vision and
ever eludes their grasp, until they are thereby at last
driven to seek for Happiness there where alone it is to
be found. To those who do not love God, all things must
work together immediately for pain and torment, until,
indirectly by means of this very torment, they are at last
led to salvation.

For an account of a remarkable incident connected with this passage,
see "Memoir" p. 140.

( 445 )

LECTURE IX.

EXPOSITION OF THE HIGHER MORALITY PASSAGE
TO THE STANDPOINT OF TRUE RELIGION-
CHARACTERIZATION OF THE MORAL-
RELIGIOUS WILL.

THE following were the results of our last lecture, and in
dicate the point at which we now stand : So long as
man still desires to be something on his own account,
the True Being and Life cannot develop itself within
him, and hence he likewise remains inaccessible to
Blessedness; for all personal, individual Being is but
Non-Being, and limitation of the True Being ; and, on
that very account, is either obvious Unblessedness, as
in the case of the first standpoint, that of mere Sensuous-
ness, which looks to outward objects only for its enjoy
ment, whereas no outward object can possibly satisfy
man ; _ or else, if not actual Unblessedness, yet just as
little Blessedness, but only mere Apathy, passive indif
ference, and absolute incapacity for all enjoyment of Life,
as in the case of the second standpoint, that of mere
formal Legality. On the contrary, as soon as man, by
an act of the Highest Freedom, surrenders and lays aside
his personal, individual freedom and independence, he
becomes a partaker of the Only True Being, the Divine,

4-iG THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

and of all the Blessedness that is contained therein. We
showed, in the first place,- in order to separate ourselves
distinctly from the opposite sensuous mode of thought,
and to lay this aside once and for ever, how such an
one, who has attained the True Life, looks upon the out
ward and sensuous Life ; and Ave found that he regards
his whole personal Ex-istence, and all outward occur
rences that affect it, but as means for the fulfilment of
the Divine Work in him ; and indeed all of them as
they occur as necessarily the best and most suitable
means ; and hence he desires to possess no voice or choice
whatever with regard to the objective disposition of
these occurrences, but accepts them all as they present
themselves. On the other hand, we reserved for our
present lecture, the description of the inward and peculiar
Life of such a man : which description we now begin.

I have already shown, on a former occasion, that the
Third standpoint of the Spiritual Life, which undoubt
edly is that at which we have now arrived, that, namely,
of the HIGHER MORALITY, is distinguished from the sec
ond, that of mere formal Legality, by the creation of a
wholly new and truly Super-sensuous World, and by the
development of this world within the world of sense as its
sphere ; while, on the contrary, the Law of Stoicism is only
the Law of an order in the world of sense. It is this as
sertion that I have, in the next place, to establish on a
deeper foundation, and thus more clearly explain and
more strictly define it.

> On this standpoint, the whole sensible world, the exis-
\ tence of which is assumed only because of our love and
iaffection for a determinate Ex-istence in outward objects,
becomes only a means ; but unquestionably not a means
for nothing, upon which supposition it would not be a
means, since besides itself there would then be nothing,
and it would consequently remain for ever an end, as sole
and absolute Ex-istence, but it becomes undoubtedly a

LEGTUKE IX.

447

means for an actual, true, and real Being. What is this
Being ? We know it from what has been said above
It is the inward Essential Being of God himself, as it
is absolutely, in itself and through itself, immediately
purely, and without intervening medium, without being
modified, veiled, or obscured by any Form contained in
the personality of the Ego, which is on that account ob
structive and limiting ; but broken only by the inde
structible Form of Infinity. Since this Being is deter
mined only, on the one hand, by the Essential Divine
Nature, which is founded absolutely on itself alone, and,
on the other, by the Form of Infinity, which, in Actual
Ex-istence, can never be dissolved or brought to a conclus
ion, as we have very distinctly set forth in our last
lecture, it is clear that we cannot by any means compre
hend mediately, through any other conception, and thus a
priori, how this Being will disclose itself; but that it can
only be immediately perceived and experienced, and only
apprehended in the act of its living forth-flowing from
Being into Ex-istence ; so that the specific knowledge of
this new and Super-sensuous World cannot be communi
cated, by means of description and characterization, to
those who do not themselves live therein. He who is
inspired of God reveals to us how it is ; and it is as
he reveals it, just for this reason because He so reveals
it ; but without such inward revelation no man can speak
of it.

In general, however, and by means of an outward and
merely negative mark, this Divine World may be charac
terized ; and that in the following way : All Being carries
with it its proper Love and Affection, and so also the im
mediate Divine Being which is manifested in the Form of
Infinity. Now this Being is such as it is, not through
anything else, or for the sake of anything else, but through
itself, and for its own sake alone ; and when it appears
and is beloved, then it must necessarily be beloved and

448 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

enjoyed through itself alone, purely and solely on its own
account ; but by no means on account of something else,
and thus only as a means for this other thing, which
would then become the ultimate end of its being. And
thus we have found the desiderated outward criterion
of the Divine World, whereby it is completely separated
from the World of Sense. Whatever is a source of enjoy
ment in itself, and indeed of the highest degree of enjoy
ment, infinitely transcending all other degrees, is a
Manifestation of the immediate and essential Divine Na
ture in Reality. We may even describe it as the most
perfect phenomenon of each particular moment, under
the given conditions of Time ; provided we do not un
derstand thereby such a perfection as is given by means
of a mere logical conception, which contains nothing more
than the order and completeness of the Manifold, but
on the contrary, a perfection given through an immediate
affection towards a determinate Being.

Thus much as to the possible characterization of the New
World created by the Higher Morality within the World
of Sense. Should you desire of me yet greater clearness
on this point, you will doubtless not expect that I should
attempt a clearer characterization, for I think that in this
way nothing can be added to what we have already said,
but you will require from me examples. Willingly indeed
shall I satisfy this desire, finding myself in these regions
so concealed from the vulgar eye ; reminding you, never
theless, that I can here adduce only individual examples,
which cannot of themselves exhaust that which can be
exhausted only in characterization, and which we have al
ready so exhausted ; examples which themselves can only
be fully comprehended by means of such characterization.

I say : The inward and absolute Nature of God mani
fests itself in BEAUTY; it manifests itself in the perfect
DOMINION of MAN over NATURE ; it manifests itself in the
perfect STATE and POLITY of NATIONS ; it manifests itself

LECTURE IX.

in SCIENCE ; in short, it manifests itself in those concep
tions which, in the strict and peculiar sense, I term IDEAS,
and to which I have directed attention in many ways,
both in the lectures which I delivered here last winter,* and
in others which have some time ago appeared in print. f
In order to explain my fundamental conception by means
of the lowest form of the Idea, concerning which we may
venture to hope that we shall be able at once to attain
the requisite clearness namely Beauty : There is much
talk of the splendours of the surrounding world, of the
beauties of nature, &c. ; as if, were it intended that we
should accept these words in their literal acceptation,
as if Beauty could ever appertain to the Earthly and
Perishable, or could be transferred to these. But the
source of Beauty is in God alone, and it reveals itself only
in the minds of those who are inspired by Him. Imagine,
for example, a Holy Virgin who, borne up into the clouds
and encircled by the heavenly hosts who fall down before
her presence in rapt contemplation, surrounded by all the
splendours of a Heaven of which she herself is the highest
ornament and delight, can yet alone of those present see
nothing of all that takes place around her, being wholly
overwhelmed and lost in this one feeling : " Behold the
handmaiden of the Lord : be it unto me according to thy
word ;" clothe this feeling, thus surrounded, in a human
body, and then unquestionably you have Beauty in a de
terminate Form. Now what is it that makes this Form
beautiful ? Is it the separate parts and members of which
it is composed ? Is it not much rather the one feeling
which is diffused throughout all these members ? The
Form is superadded, only because in it, and by means of
it, the Thought becomes visible ; and it is transferred by
means of lines and colours to the canvas, because thus

* " Characteristics of the Present Age."
f " On the Nature of the Scholar and its Manifestations."

I I

450 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

only can it be communicated to others. Perhaps this
Thought might also have been expressed in hard and
senseless stone, or in any other material. Would then the
stone thereby become beautiful ? The stone ever remains
stone, and is wholly unsusceptible of such a predicate ;
but the soul of the Artist was beautiful when he con
ceived his work, and the soul of every intelligent beholder
in whom the conception is repeated will likewise become
beautiful ; the stone ever remains only that which fixes
the limits of the outward perception during this inward
spiritual development.

This ideal Being and the creative Affection of it, as a
mere natural phenomenon, manifests itself generally as
GENIUS for Art, for Government, for Science, &c. It is
understood, of course, and to every one who has any ex
perience whatever in matters of this kind it is by means
of this very experience sufficiently known, that since
the natural affection for such creations of Genius is the
very foundation of the Life of Genius in which all its
other life is swallowed up, I say, it is understood that
true Genius does not require to stimulate and urge
itself on to industry in its Art or in its Science by any
Categorical Imperative, but that all its powers, of their
own accord, direct themselves towards this its all-engross
ing object ; further, that, so surely as any one possesses
True Genius, his work always prospers well, and the
products of his labour are always pleasing to him, and
thus he is ever surrounded, inwardly and outwardly, by
the Beautiful and Agreeable ; that, finally, he does not
employ this Activity for the attainment of any object
whatever beyond itself, nor will accept aught in ex
change for it ; but, on the contrary, no earthly consider
ation would induce him to leave undone what he alone
may do, or to do it otherwise than as seems right and
pleasing to himself; that he consequently finds his true
and satisfying Enjoyment of Life only in such work,

LECTURE IX. 451

purely and solely as work, and for the work s sake ; and
whatever of the external world he may accept besides
does not of itself engross his thoughts, but he accepts
it only in order that, renewed and strengthened by it,
he may return to his own true element. And thus
mere natural Genius soars far above both the low de
sires of the Sensualist and the callous indifferentism of
the Stoic, and carries its possessor through an unin
terrupted succession of blissful experiences, for which he
needs nothing beyond himself, and which, without pain
ful effort or labour on his part, blossom forth spontane
ously out of his Life. The Enjoyment of a single hour
passed happily in the pursuit of Art or of Science far
outweighs a whole lifetime of Sensuous Enjoyment;
and before the picture of this Blessedness, the mere
Sensuous Man, could it but be brought home to him,
would sink in envy and longing desire.

In the illustration AVC have thus adduced, we have as
sumed a natural Genius as the peculiar source and root
of the Spiritual Enjoyment of Life, as well as of the
scorn of mere Sensuous Enjoyment ; and I have desired,
by means of this single example of the Higher Mo
rality and its Blessedness, to lead you to a more univer
sal conception of it. But this Genius, notwithstand
ing that its object is in itself truly super-sensuous, and
the pure expression of the Godhead, as we showed in
particular by the example of the Beautiful, does yet
desire, and must desire, that its Spiritual Object should
receive a certain representative form and clothing in the
World of Sense ; and thus Genius does also desire, in a
certain sense, such a determinate Form of its World and
its environment as in our previous lecture we uncon
ditionally censured and condemned in the case of Sen-
suousness; and if the self-enjoyment of Genius were
dependent on the accidental realization or non-realization
of this outward result as the aim of its efforts, then

452 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

would the peace and tranquillity of Genius itself be at
an end ; and the Higher Morality would be exposed to
all the miseries of the lower Sensuousness. But, so far
as Genius is concerned, so surely as it is Genius, it will
assuredly succeed in the expression and representation of
its Idea in the appropriate medium. Its desired Form
and environment can therefore never be awanting ; while
nevertheless it is the Activity with which it produces
this Form which is the true seat of its immediate en
joyment. To this the Form itself only contributes in
directly, because in it only does the Activity become ap
parent ; which is obvious from the fact that True Genius
never lingers long over anything it has already attained,
nor dwells in voluptuous enjoyment of it, and of itself
in it, but proceeds onward without delay to new develop
ments. In general, however, apart from particular Genius,
and with reference to all possible Life in which the
Divine Being manifests itself purely, I lay down the
following principle : So long as joy in the deed is
mixed up with desires regarding the outward result of
the deed, even the possessor of the Higher Morality is
not yet perfect in purity and clearness; and thus, in the
Divine Economy, the outward failure of his deed is the
means of forcing him in upon himself, and of raising
him to the yet higher standpoint of True Religion,
that is, to the comprehension of what it really is that
he loves and strives after. Understand this as a whole,
and in its connexion, thus :

(1.) The Free Ego, deduced and described with suffi
cient distinctness in our previous lecture, and which, as
Reflexion, ever remains one and the same, does yet, as
Object that is, as the reflecting substance that exists
only in Appearance become divided, at the first glance
into an Infinity, but also, for a reason that lies too deep
to be treated of in these lectures, into a progressive
system of Individual Personalities. (This separation is

LECTURE IX. 453

a portion of that division of the objective world into the
Form of Infinity which we have already sufficiently de
scribed upon several occasions ; and thus belongs to the
absolutely fundamental Form of Ex-istence which cannot
be cast off even by the Godhead itself : As Being ori
ginally separated itself in this division, so it remains
separated in all Eternity ; and hence no Individual hav
ing a place in this division that is, no Individual who
has come into Actual Ex-istence, can ever perish ; this
is to be noticed only in passing, and in opposition to
those among our contemporaries, who by means of a
half-philosophy and whole-bewilderment esteem them
selves enlightened when they deny the continued Ex
istence in higher spheres of the Individuals actually
existing here.) In them, in these Individual Personalities
thus arising from the fundamental Form of Ex-istence,
the entire Divine Being is separated into an infinite
progressive development in Time, and is, as it were,
divided among them, according to the Absolute Law of
such a division, which is founded in the Essential Divine
Nature itself; whilst, further, every one of these Indi
viduals, as a section of the One Ego determined by its
own essential Form, necessarily bears this latter Form in
its entirety, that is, as we said in our last lecture, it is
free and independent in relation to the five standpoints.
Each Individual has therefore in his own free choice,
which cannot be taken away from him even by the Di
vinity himself, the possibility of viewing and of enjoying
from any of these five standpoints that portion in the Ab
solute Being which is characteristic of him as an Actual
Individual. Thus has each Individual, in the first place,
his determinate portion in the Sensuous Life, and in its
Love; which Life will appear to him as the ultimate
and absolute end and purpose of his Being, so long as
this freedom, which is discovered only by its actual use,
is wholly engrossed therein. But if he should rise, per-

454 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

haps through the sphere of Legality, to that of the
Higher Morality, then will that Sensuous Life become to
him but a means; and his portion in the Higher, Super-
sensuous, and immediately Divine Life, will reveal itself to
his Love. Every one without exception necessarily re
ceives, by his mere entrance into Actual Ex-istence, his
portion in this Super-sensuous Being ; for otherwise he
would be no result of that division of the Absolute
Being, according to its own Essential Law, without which
there is no Actual Ex-istence, and he would not other
wise even have become actual ; but to every one without
exception, there is nevertheless the possibility of this
Super-sensuous Being remaining concealed, should he fail
to renounce his Sensuous Being and its objective inde
pendence. Every one without exception, I say, receives
that portion in the Super-sensuous Being which is ex
clusively his own, and which belongs in the same manner
to no other Individual whatever but himself; which por
tion now develops itself in him in all Eternity, mani
festing itself as a continuous course of action, in such a
form as it can assume in absolutely no other Individual;
and this, in short, may be called the individual character
of his Higher Vocation. Not that the Essential Divine
Nature is divided in itself; in all men, without ex
ception, the one and unchangeable Divine Nature, as it
is in itself, is present; and if they can but attain True
Freedom, may also appear in actual manifestation ; but
this Nature manifests itself in each Individual in a
different Form, peculiar to himself. (Let Being, as we
have already supposed, be = A, and Form = B ; then A>
which has absolutely entered into B, divides itself by this
very act of entrance, not according to its Essential Nature
but according to its Absolute Form in Eeflexion, into
(b-{-b-\-b . . .) = a System of Individuals: and each in
dividual 6 contains in itself (1.) the whole and indi
visible A, (2.) the whole and indivisible B, (3.) ,its own

LECTURE IX. 455

particular I y and the same with all the other results of
A throughout (I + b + b . . . .)

(2.) No one can discover, by means of mere thought
alone, this his peculiar portion in the Super-sensuous
Being ; nor can he deduce it by way of inference from
any other truth ; nor can he be made acquainted with
it through any other individual, since this portion cannot
be known to any other individual ; but he can attain a
knowledge of it only by immediate personal conscious
ness ; and his Being must necessarily and spontaneously
assume this Form so soon as he has surrendered and
wholly annihilated all personal will and personal purposes
within him. Hence it is clear, in the first place, that
with respect to this, which only each man can clearly
comprehend for himself in his own immediate conscious
ness, it is impossible to speak in general terms, and that
I must here necessarily stop short. And what end, in
deed, could here be served by speech, even were speech
possible ? He to whom his especial Higher Vocation
has revealed itself knows it as it is revealed to him ; and
he may conclude by analogy how it is with others to
whom their Higher Vocation has also become clear and
intelligible. But as for him to whom it has not revealed
itself, to him no information on this subject can be com
municated ; it serves no purpose to speak of colours to
the blind.

Has this peculiar Vocation revealed itself to him ?

then does it penetrate him with unspeakable Love, and
with the purest Enjoyment ; penetrates him wholly, and
takes possession of all his Life. And thus it is the very
first act of the Higher Morality, which must infallibly
ensue so soon as the mero personal will has been re
signed, that man becomes wholly penetrated with his
own especial Vocation, and desires to be nothing what
ever but that which he, and only he, can be ; which he,
and only he, in virtue of his Higher Nature, that is, of

456 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

the Divine Nature in him, ought to be ; in short, that
he desires nothing whatever but that which, at bottom,
he actually wills. How could such a man ever do any
thing with unwillingness, since he never does anything
else but that in which he has the highest delight ?
What I said above of natural Genius, is even still more
applicable to the Virtue which is born of perfect Free
dom ; for this Virtue is the highest expression of Genius;
it is the immediate power of Genius, i.e. of that Form
which the Essential Divine Nature has assumed in our
Individuality. On the contrary, the desire and effort to
be something else than that to which we are called, how
ever great and noble that other thing may seem, is the
highest Immorality ; and all the constraint that man
imposes upon himself for that purpose, and all the un-
happineas that he consequently suffers, are themselves
rebellions against the rule of the Divine Order, and re
sistances of our will to the Divine. What is it then that
has thus set up within us a purpose not imposed upon us
by our Higher Nature, but personal will, personal choice,
personal self-complacent wisdom ? and thus we are very
far indeed from the renunciation of our own personal, in
dividual will. This effort is necessarily the source of the
greatest unhappiness. In this position we must con
stantly enforce, constrain, urge, and deny ourselves ; for
we can never do that willingly which, at bottom, we
cannot will ; and we can never attain a successful issue,
for we cannot accomplish that which our Nature itself
forbids. This is the assumption of outward sanctity
against which we are warned by Christianity. It may
remove mountains, and even give its body to be burned,
and yet that will profit it nothing if such be not the
dictate of true Love, that is, if it be not the dictate of
its own peculiar Spiritual Being which necessarily brings
with it its own Affection. Strive to be we mean in su-
persensuous things, for in mere sense there is no Blessed-

LECTURE IX. 457

ness strive to be what thou oughtst to be, what thou ,

canst be, and what at bottom thou really wiliest to be : ;

this is the fundamental Law, as well of the Higher Mo
rality as of the Blessed Life.

(3.) This Higher Vocation of Man, which, as we said,
penetrates him with complete and undivided Love, ex
hibits itself indeed, in the first place, in his own con
duct; but in the second place, and by means of that
conduct, it likewise manifests itself in a determinate
result in the World of Sense. So long as man does not
recognise the true root and essential central-point of his
Ex-istence, the two elements we have named, his own
Inward Being and its Outward Result, remain undis
tinguished. Something proves unsuccessful with him,
the outward result at which he aims does not ensue,
which indeed is not his fault, for he wills only what
he can will, but that of outward circumstances which
are not susceptible of his influence, and then his Love,
which has still an uncertain object, is dissatisfied with this
failure, and thereby his Blessedness is disturbed and de
stroyed. This forces him more deeply in upon himself,
in order that he may make it perfectly clear to himself
what it really is that he strives after ; and what, on the
contrary, it is that in deed and truth he does not strive
after, but which is indifferent to him. In this self-ex
amination he will discover what we have plainly enun
ciated above, although he may not express it in the
same words, namely, that it is the development of the
Divine Being and Life in him, this particular individual,
which he strives after especially and in the first place ;
and thereby his whole Being and his true and proper
Love will become perfectly clear to him, and he will be
raised from the Third standpoint of the Higher Mo
rality, in which we have hitherto retained him, to the
Fourth that of RELIGION. This Divine Life now con
tinually develops itself within him, without hindrance

m b

458 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

or obstruction, as it can and must develop itself only in
him and his individuality ; this alone it is that he pro
perly wills ; his will is therefore always accomplished ;
and it is absolutely impossible that anything contrary
to it should ever come to pass. This his proper Inward
Life does indeed still desire constantly to flow forth in
surrounding circumstances and to fashion these after it
self, and only in this effort after outward expression does
it show itself to be true Inward Life, and not mere dead
devotion. But the result of this effort after outward
expression does not depend on his own isolated indi
vidual Life alone, but upon the general Freedom of
other individuals besides himself : this Freedom God
himself cannot wish to destroy, therefore neither can the
man who is devoted to God, and who has attained a clear
knowledge of God, neither can he wish that it should
be destroyed. While, therefore, he certainly desires this
outward result, and labours unceasingly and with all his
power to effect it, because he cannot abstain from doing
so, and because this is his own proper Inward Life, he
yet does not will it absolutely and unconditionally; and
it therefore would not, even for a single moment, dis
turb his Peace and Blessedness should it nevertheless
remain unaccomplished; his Love and his Blessedness
return into his own proper Life, where they always, and
without exception, find their true satisfaction. Thus
much in general. Beyond this, the matters now touched
upon demand a further exposition, which we reserve for
our next lecture, in order that we may here reach a
result which will spread a general light over the whole ;
namely :

(4.) Everything which this Moral-Religious Man wills
and constantly promotes, has, in and for itself, no value
whatever to him ; as indeed it has none in itself, and is
not in itself the most perfect, but only that which is most
perfect in this moment of Time, to be superseded in a

LECTURE IX. 45$

Future Time by something still more perfect; but it
has value for him only because it is the immediate
Manifestation of God, the Form which God assumes in
him, this definite individual. Now God also dwells
originally, likewise in a peculiar Form, in all other sur
rounding individuals, notwithstanding that he remains
concealed from most of them in consequence of their
personal, individual Will, and their want of the highest
Freedom, and thus is not actually manifested either in
themselves, or in their conduct towards others. In this
position the Moral-Religious Man although with refer
ence to himself he has entered upon his portion of True
Being is, with reference to other individuals, separated
and cut off from the constituent parts of Being which
are related to him ; and there abides in him a sorrowful
striving and longing to unite and associate himself with
these kindred elements : not indeed that this longing
disturbs his Blessedness, for this is the permanent lot
of his Finite Being, and a part of his allegiance to God,
to embrace which with Love is itself a portion of his
Blessedness.

For what then would this concealed Inward Being, were
it manifested in the conduct of other individuals, for
what would it possess a value in the estimation of our
supposed Religious Man ? Obviously not for itself,
since even his own nature has no value whatever to him
in itself, but because it is the Manifestation of God in
these individuals. Further, for what will he desire that
this Manifestation should possess a value in the estima
tion of these individuals themselves ? Obviously only
that it may be recognized by them as the Manifestation
of God in themselves. Finally, for what will he desire
that his own conduct and effort should possess a value in
the estimation of these individuals ? Obviously only
that they may recognize in it the Manifestation of God
in him.

460 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

And thus we have now a general outward characteriza
tion of the Moral-Religious Will, in so far as it comes
forth from the Inward Life, which ever remains hidden
in itself, into Outward Manifestation. In the first place,
the object of this Will is ever only the Spiritual World
of reasonable beings ; for the World of Sense has long
ago with him been reduced to a mere sphere of spiritual
activity. In this Spiritual World, his positive Will is
this that in the conduct of each individual there may
be manifested purely that Form which the Essential
Divine Nature has assumed in him that particular in
dividual ; that, on the other hand, each individual may
.recognize God, as he is outwardly manifested to him in
the conduct of all other men ; that all others may in
like manner recognize God as he is outwardly mani
fested to them in the conduct of that particular indi
vidual; and that thus God alone may ever be wholly
manifested in all Outward Appearance ; that He alone
may live and rule, and nothing besides Him ; and that,
everywhere and at all times, He alone may be present to
the eye of mortals.

Thus, as it is expressed by Christianity in the form of
a prayer : " Thy kingdom come : even that condition
of the world in which Thou alone art, and live st, and
rulest, so that Thy will may be done on earth, in
the Actual, by means of that Freedom which Thou
Thyself wilt not take away, as it ever is done, and in
deed never can be otherwise done, in heaven, in the
Idea, in the world as it is in itself, and without relation
to Freedom."

For example : Yonder they complain that misery is
so abundant in the world, and go about with a zeal,
praiseworthy in itself, to make it somewhat less. Alas !
the misery that lies most open to view is not the true
misery ; since things are as they are, misery is the best
of all that is in the world; and since the world does

LECTURE IX. 4(J1

not improve notwithstanding all this misery, one might
almost believe that there is not yet enough of misery in
it : that the image of God, Humanity, should be sullied,
degraded, and trodden in the dust, this is the true
misery in the world, which fills the Keligious Man with
holy indignation. Perchance thou dost alleviate the
sorrows of humanity, so far as thy hand can reach, by
the sacrifice of thine own dearest enjoyments. But if
this happen only because Nature has given thee a
.system of nerves so sensitive, and so harmoniously at
tuned with the rest of humanity, that every sorrow which
thou beholdest repeats itself more keenly in thine own
organization; then it is to this delicate organization
that our thanks are due; in the Spiritual World thy
-deed passes unnoticed. Hadst thou done the like deed
in holy indignation that the Son of Eternity, in whom
also there dwells something god-like, should be tor
mented by such vanities as these, and should be left there
so forsaken by his fellow-men ; with the desire that he
might have at least one glad hour in which he might
raise his eyes joyfully and thankfully to Heaven; \vith
the purpose that in thy hand he might see the saving
hand of God, and might know of a surety that the arm
of God is not yet shortened, but that He has yet every
where instruments and servants to do His will, and
that thus Faith and Hope and Love might arise in his
soul ; if thus what thou desiredst to help had been his
Inward Nature, and not his Outward, which is ever with
out true value ; then had thy deed been the outward
expression of a Moral-Religious Spirit.

(463)

LECTURE X.

SURVEY OF THE WHOLE SUBJECT FROM THE STAND
POINT OF TRUE RELIGION ; DELINEATION
OF THE BLESSED LIFE.

Now that it is our purpose to bring these lectures to a
close, let us once more combine into one view the doc
trine which we have built up before you.

Life in itself is One ; it remains unchangeably the
same ; and since it is the perfect fulfilment of the Love
of Life that dwells in it, it is perfect Blessedness. This
True Life exists, at bottom, wherever any form or degree
of Life is to be found ; but it may be concealed by an
admixture of the elements of Death and Nothingness;
and then, by means of pain and torment and mortifica
tion of this imperfect Life, it presses onward towards its
development. We have followed, step by step, this de
velopment of the True Life out of the imperfect Ap
parent Life by which it may at first be concealed;
to-day it is our purpose to accompany this Life into the
central-point of its dominion, and to invest it with all
its glory. In our last lecture we characterized the high
est Form of Actual Life that is since Eeality consists
wholly in a Form of Reflexion, whilst the absolutely in
destructible Form of Reflexion is Infinity that Life

464 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

which flows forth in an Infinite Time, and employs the
personal Ex-istence of Man as its instrument, and hence
manifests itself as Action we have, I say, characterized
this Life by the name of the HIGHER MORALITY. We
were constrained to admit that, on account of the separ
ation of the one Essential Divine Nature into many in
dividuals a separation unalterably imposed by the law
of Reflexion the activity of each particular individual
cannot avoid striving after an outward result, not wholly
dependent on the individual himself, in the surrounding
world of Freedom; that nevertheless the Blessedness
of such an individual will not be disturbed by the failure
of this result, provided only that he raise himself to a
true comprehension of that which he strives after un
conditionally, as distinguished from that which he seeks
only conditionally; which comprehension we termed
the standpoint of TRUE RELIGION. With respect to this
latter point especially, I referred you to our present
lecture, in which I promised a more thorough exposition
of this subject.

I shall prepare the way for this exposition by a survey
ofjiur whole subject from its profoundest standpoint.

Being ex-ists; and the Ex-istence of Being is necessarily
Consciousness, or Reflexion according to fixed laws which
are contained in, and are to be developed from, Reflexion
itself: this is the fundamental principle, now sufficiently
explained on all sides, of our whole doctrine. It is Being
alone that ex-ists, that " is" in Ex-istence, and by
whose being in it alone Ex-istence is; that eternally
abides in it as it is in itself, and without whose indwell
ing within it Ex-istence would vanish into Nothingness:
no one doubts this, and no one who understands it can
doubt it. But in Ex-istence, as Ex-istence, i.e. in Re
flexion, Being directly changes its absolutely incompre
hensible Form, which can only be described as pure Life
and Action, into an Essence or Nature a specific and

LECTURE X. 465

definite mode of Being; so that we have never spoken
of Being, and no one can ever speak of Being, otherwise
than by speaking of its Essence or Nature. Although,
therefore, our Being is ever in itself the Being of Being;
and thus remains, and can never become other than this;
yet that which we ourselves, and for ourselves, are, have,
and possess, i.e. in the Form of ourselves, of the Ego,
of Reflexion in Consciousness, this is never Being in
itself, but only Being in our Form, as Essence or Nature.
How then is this Being, which certainly does not enter
into Form in all its native purity, how is it yet con
nected with Form ? does it not thereby irrevocably
project forth from itself, and set up beside itself, a
second, wholly new Being, which new and second Being
is altogether impossible ? Answer : Ask not for the
"How;" be satisfied with the fact. They are con
nected; there is such a bond, which, higher than all
Reflexion, proceeding from no Reflexion, and not recog
nizing the jurisdiction of Reflexion, yet appears beside,
and indissolubly associated with, Reflexion. In this
companionship with Reflexion, this bond is Feeling;
and, since it is a bond, it is Love ; and, since it is the
bond that unites Pure Being and Reflexion, it is the
Love of God. In this Love, Being and Ex-istence, God
and Man, are ONE ; wholly transfused and lost in each
other ; it is the point of intersection of the A and B we
have spoken of above ; the act of Being, in supporting
and maintaining itself in Ex-istence, is its Love for it
self, which we do not conceive of as Feeling only because
we do not conceive of it at all. The Manifestation of
this act of Being, in supporting and maintaining itself in
Ex-istence, in companionship with Reflexion, that is,
the Feeling of this act of Self-existence, is our Love
towards it ; or, in strict truth, its own Love towards it
self in the Form of Feeling; since we have no power to
love it, but only itself has power to love itself in us.

nb

466 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

This not its, nor ours but this reciprocal Love,
which first separates us into two, and then binds us to
gether into one, is the original creator of our oft-men
tioned abstract conception of a Pure Being, or a God.
What is it that thus carries us beyond all determinate
and comprehensible Ex-istence, and beyond the whole
world of absolute Reflexion ? It is our Love which no
Ex-istence can satisfy. Conception does here that only
which it alone can do ; it defines and fashions this Love,
by abstracting from its object, which only by its means
becomes an object, everything that does not satisfy this
Love ; leaving in it nothing but the pure negation of all
conceivability associated with infinite and eternal love-
ableness. What then is it that assures us of God but
pure, self-sufficing Love, which is superior to all the
doubt that is born of Reflexion, and is only possible
therein ? and what makes this Love thus self-sufficient,
but that it is the immediate self-supporting and self-
maintaining Life of the Absolute itself ? Not Reflexion,
which by virtue of its very nature divides itself into
parts, and thus is ever at variance with itself; no,
Love is the source of all certainty, all truth, all
reality.

It is the conception of God, which has thus become a
purely abstract conception, that gives shape and definition
to this Love, we said. In its own immediate Life, on
the contrary and I entreat you to note this well this
Love is not thus defined and fashioned ; but it is, and
it has and holds the object of its affection, not by any
means in conception, which never overtakes it, but
immediately in Love ; and that as it is in itself, because
it is in truth nothing else than the self-supporting Life
of Absolute Being. Now it is this substance and ma
terial of Love, which Reflexion, in the first place, con
verts into a permanent objective Essence or Nature;
and then again divides, even to infinity, clothing it with

LECTURE X. 467

new and ever-varied Forms ; and thus creates its World.
I ask : What is it then that gives a true and proper
fundamental substance to this World, the Nature and
Form of which are evidently products of Keflexion ? It
is obviously the Absolute Love : the Absolute, I say,
or, as we may now express it, the Love of God towards
his Ex-istence, or, the Love of that Ex-istence towards
the living God. And what remains for Reflexion ? To
give an objective standing to this substance, and to
fashion it into an infinite succession of objective Forms.
But even with reference to this last point, What is it
then that prevents Reflexion from ever pausing in this
work, and impels it incessantly forward from one Form
towards another, and from this again to another, in end
less succession ? It is the inextinguishable Love for
that which necessarily escapes Reflexion, which lies con
cealed- behind all Reflexion, and is therefore necessarily
to be sought for behind all Reflexion, and under all its
infinitely varied Forms, the pure and real Absolute ;
this it is which impels Reflexion onward through Eter
nity, and stretches it out into a living Eternity. Love
is therefore higher than all Reason ; it is itself the
fountain of Reason and the root of Reality ; the sole
creator of Life and Time ; and thus I have finally de
clared to you the highest, real point of view of a Doctrine
of Being, Life, and Blessedness, that is, of true Spec
ulation, towards which we have hitherto been gradually
advancing.

(Finally, Love, as it is the source of all truth and cer
tainty generally, so is it the source of completed truth
in the actual man and his life. Completed truth is
SCIENCE; and the element of Science is Reflexion.
Only when Science becomes clear to itself as the Love
of the Absolute, and comprehends this Absolute, as it
necessarily must, as lying wholly beyond all Reflexion,
and inaccessible to it in any possible Form, does it

468 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

attain to pure objective truth ; and only so does it be
come capable of apprehending and distinguishing Re
flexion, which formerly it had always confounded with
Reality; of completely recognising and comprehending
all the products of Reflexion in Reality ; and, thus, of
laying the foundation of a Doctrine of Knowledge. In
short, the Reflexion which has become Divine Love,
and is therefore wholly absorbed in God himself, is the
standpoint of Science : this I desired to avail myself of
a fitting opportunity to mention in passing.)

And now to present this to you in a form which may
be easily retained, and also to connect it with an already
familiar illustration : We have already twice translated
the words of John " In the beginning was the Word,"
&c. into the language of our immediate theme : in the
first instance, thus : " In the beginning, and absolutely
associated with Being, was Ex-istence;" and then, in
the second instance, after we had more distinctly recog
nised the manifold inward modifications of Ex-istence,
and had combined these together under the name Form,
thus : " In the beginning, and absolutely associated with
God, or Being, was Form." Now, however, since we
have seen that Consciousness with all its manifold Forms,
which before we had held to be the true Ex-istence, is
but Ex-istence at second hand, and indeed the mere
Appearance or Manifestation of Ex-isteuce, and have
recognised the true and absolute Ex-istence, in its own
proper Form, as Love; now, we render these same
words, thus : " In the beginning, before all Time, and
the absolute Creator of all Time, is Love ; and Love is in
God, for it is his own act whereby he maintains himself
in Ex-istence ; and Love is itself God, God is in it, and
for ever abides in it, as he is in himself. By it, and from
it, as the fundamental substance of all Ex-istence, are,
by means of living Reflexion, all things made, and with-
out it is not anything made that is made; and it for

LECTURE X. 469

ever becomes flesh, in us and around us, and dwells
among us ; and, if we will, we may behold for ever be
fore our eyes, its glory, as the glory of the eternal and
necessary Effluence of the Godhead."

True Life is Love; and, as Love, holds and possesses

within itself its own object the object of this Love

bound up, interpenetrated, transfused, and wholly ab
sorbed in it : eternally One and the same Love. It is
not Love that sets up this object before it in outward
representation and separates it into parts; it is Re
flexion that does this. Thus, in so far as man is Love,
and this he is always in the root of his Life, and
can be nothing but this, although it may be that he is
but the Love of himself, but especially in so far as he
is the Love of God, he remains eternally and for ever
one, true, and unchangeable as God himself, and is in
deed in reality God himself; and it is not merely a
bold metaphor, but a literal truth, that John utters when
he says : " He who dwelleth in Love, dwelleth in God,
and God in him." It is only his Reflexion that first
separates him from this Love which is his own proper
Being and not any foreign Being; and that strives,
throughout a whole manifold infinity, to lay hold of that
which he himself is and remains, now, everywhere, and
for ever. Hence it is not his inward Essential Nature,
that which is his own, which belongs to himself and
to no other, that is subject to continual change ; but it
is only the Appearance or Manifestation of this Nature,
which in itself is withdrawn from outward Appearance,
that suffers this continual change. Formerly we said :
The eye of man conceals God from him, and separates
the pure light into coloured rays. Now we say : The
eye of man conceals God from him, only because he him
self is concealed from himself by it, and because his
vision never reaches his own true Being. What he sees
is ever himself, as we also said formerly ; but he does

470 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

not see himself as he truly is ; his Being is one, but his
vision is infinite.

Love necessarily enters into Reflexion, and manifests
itself there immediately, as a Life which employs as its
instrument a personal, sensuous Ex-istence, and thus as
Individual Action ; and that indeed in a sphere peculiar
to itself and lying beyond all Sensuousness in a wholly
new World. Wherever the Divine Love is, there is
necessarily this Manifestation ; for thus only does this
Love reveal itself, and that without any new intervening
principle ; and, on the contrary, where this Manifestation
is not, there this Divine Love is not. It is altogether
in vain to say to him who does not dwell in Love " Act
morally," for only in Love does the Moral World arise,
and without Love there is no such world ; and just as
superfluous is it to say this to him who does dwell in
Love, for his Love lives already of itself, and his activity,
his moral Action, is merely the silent Manifestation of
this his Life. The Action is nothing in and for itself,
and it has no independent principle in itself; but it flows
forth, calmly and silently, from Love, as light seems to
flow forth from the sun, and as the World does actually
flow forth from the inward Love of God to himself. If
any man does not act, neither does he love ; and he who
supposes that he loves, and yet does not act, in him
imagination alone is excited by some picture of Love
conveyed to him from without, to which picture there
is within him no corresponding, inward, self-supporting
reality. " If a man say I love God," thus speaks the
same John, after representing brotherly love in a certain
very just sense as in itself the Higher Morality " if a
man say I love God, and hateth his brother, he is a liar ; "
or, as we would say, in language more suitable to our
age, although not a whit more tenderly, he is a sham,
and has not the Love of God abiding in him ; abiding,
I say, really indwelling within him, it is not the root

LECTURE X. 471

of his true Life, but he can at most only picture it in
imagination.

Love is eternally complete, and contained within it
self; and, as Love, it has ever within itself complete
Reality ; it is Reflexion alone that separates and divides
into parts. Hence, and thus we return to the point
which we reached in our previous lecture, hence the
division of the one Divine Life into different individuals
does not by any means take place in Love but only in
Reflexion. The individual, who is revealed to himself
only in Action, and all other individuals who appear
around him, are thus but the Manifestation of this one
Love, not by any means the thing itself. In his own
Action, Love must be manifest, for otherwise it would
not be present ; but the moral Action of others is not to
him the immediately apparent Manifestation of Love;
hence the absence of this does not immediately prove the
absence of Love ; therefore, as we said already in our
previous lecture, he does not desire the Morality and
Religion of others unconditionally, but only under the
condition of their Freedom; and the absence of this
general Morality does not disturb the peace of Love,
which is wholly independent of everything beyond
itself.

The Morality and Religion of the whole Spiritual World
are closely connected with the Action of each particular
individual, as effect with cause. The Moral-Religious
Man desires to spread Morality and Religion universally.
The distinction between his Religion and the Religion
of others is but a distinction in Reflexion. The affection
produced in him by success or failure must therefore take
place according to the law of Reflexion. But, as we
have already seen on another occasion, the peculiar
affection of Reflexion is approbation or disapprobation ;
not cold and indifferent, but the more passionate the
more loving the nature of the man. Reflexion always

472 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

bears with it an affection towards the Morality of others;
and this Reflexion is highest of all in the Religious
Man ; it is the true root of the World around him,
which he embraces with affection, and which is, to him,
purely and solely a Spiritual World.

From what we have now said, we obtain the principles
by which we may characterize more profoundly than we
could do in our former lecture, the disposition of the Re
ligious Man towards others; or what would be commonly
called his Philanthropy.

In the first place, there is nothing further removed
from this Religious Philanthropy than a certain good-na
tured indifferentism which accepts everything as equally
good, and which we hear much bepraised now-a-days.
This mode of thought, far from being the Love of God, is
much rather that absolute shallowness and inward va
grancy of a mind that is capable neither of love nor of
hate, which we have sufficiently described in one of our
earlier lectures. The Religious man does not concern
himself about the physical happiness of the Human Race,
unless it be his special calling to provide a fitting sub
sistence for men ; he desires no happiness for them save
in the ways of the Divine Order. He cannot desire to
make them happy by means of outward circumstances, as
little as God can desire this ; for the will and counsel of
God, even with regard to his fellow-men, are always his.
As it is the will of God that no one shall find peace and
repose but in Him, and that men shall be continually
driven onward by means of sorrows and vexations to re
nounce themselves and to seek a refuge in God ; so is
this also the will and wish of the man who is devoted to
God. When they have again found their Being in God,
he will love this Being ; their Being out of God he hates
with a perfect hatred, and his very love towards their true
Being consists in hate towards their degraded Being.
" Think not that I come to bring peace on earth," says

LECTURE X. 473

Jesus peace, that is, this same indifferent acceptance of
things as they are ; no, since ye are such as ye are "I
come not to bring peace but a sword." The Religious
Man is likewise far removed from the well-known and
much-commended effort of this same superficiality to put
such a construction upon surrounding events as may en
able it to maintain itself in this comfortable frame of
mind : to explain them away, and to interpret them into
the Good and the Beautiful. He wishes to see them as
they are in truth ; and he does so see them, for Love
sharpens his sight; he judges strictly but justly, and pene
trates even to the very root of every prevalent mode of
thought.

Having in his view what men might be, his ruling
sentiment is a holy indignation at their actual existence^
so unworthy and void of honour. Seeing that in the pro-
foundest depths of their nature they still bear within
them the impress of the Divine, although it does not find
its way to outward Manifestation ; considering that what
they are accused of by others is the source of the greatest
wretchedness to themselves, and that what men call their
wickedness is but the outbreak of their own profound
misery ; reflecting that they need but to stretch forth
their hand to the Good that constantly surrounds them in
order to become at once worthy and blessed ; seeing all
this, he is filled with the deepest melancholy, the most
heart-felt sorrow. His hate is awakened only by the fanati
cism of perversity, which is not satisfied with being worth
less in its own person, but, so far as its influence extends,
endeavours to make all others as unworthy as itself, and
which is profoundly irritated and moved to hatred at the
sight of anything better than itself. For while the former
is but the wretched work of Sin, the latter is the work of
the Devil ; for the Devil also hates Goodness, not simply
because it is good, which would be wholly unintelligible,
but from envy, and because he himself cannot attain to

o b

474 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

it. Just as, according to our recent description, the man
inspired of God desires that God alone, as He is in Him
self, should be revealed in His glory, at all times, on all
sides, and in all events, to him and to all his brethren ;
so, on the contrary, he who is inspired of himself desires,
that, to him and to his fellow-men, there should be re
vealed at all times, on all sides, and in all events, only
the image of his own worthlessness. By thus transcending
his own individuality, he surpasses the human and na
tural boundaries of Egoism, and makes himself the uni
versal ideal and God ; all which the Devil also does in
like manner.

Finally, the Love of his fellow-men reveals itself in
the Religious Man, unalterably determined and for ever
remaining the same, in this : that he never, under any
condition, ceases to labour for their ennoblement, and
consequently never, under any condition, gives up his
Hope in them. His action is indeed the necessary
Manifestation of his Love ; but, on the other hand, this
action necessarily proceeds towards an outward world,
presupposes an outward world as its sphere, and assumes
that he entertains the thought of something to be ac
complished in this outward world. Without the extinc
tion of this Love in him, neither his action, nor this
thought necessarily assumed in his action, can ever cease.
As often as it fails of the anticipated result, so often
is he forced back upon himself to create, from the foun
tain of Love that eternally flows within him, a new
impulse, and new means of accomplishing his purpose ;
and is thereby impelled to a fresh effort, and should even
this fail, again to another; at each renewed attempt
assuming that what has not hitherto been successful may
yet be accomplished this time, or the next time, or at
some future time ; or, even if it should not be accom
plished at all by him individually, yet that, through his

LECTURE X. 475

aid, and by means of his previous labours, it may be
accomplished by some one following in his steps. Thus
does Love become to him an ever-flowing fountain of
Faith and Hope : not in God, for God is ever-present,
living within him, and therefore he has no need of Faith
to make that presence possible; and God ever gives
Himself to him whole and perfect as He is in Himself,
and therefore there is no room for Hope : but Faith in
Man, and Hope in Man. By this firm and immovable
Faith, this untiring Hope, he can raise himself, whenever
he will, far above all the indignation or the sorrow with
which he may be filled by the contemplation of present
reality, and can invite into his heart the surest peace,
the most indestructible repose. Let him look beyond the
Present to the Future for that glance he has a whole
Eternity before him, and may add to the vista cycle upon
cycle, which to ^him are as nothing, as far as thought
can reach.

At last and where then is the end ? at last all must
arrive at the sure haven of eternal Peace and Blessed
ness ; at last the kingdom and the power and the glory
O f God must surely come !

And thus have we gathered into one point the essential
elements of a picture of the Blessed Life, in so far as
such a picture is possible. Blessedness itself consists in
Love, and in the eternal satisfaction of Love ; it is inac
cessible to Reflexion ; it can only be negatively expressed
by the Understanding, and therefore only negatively by our
description which is the language of the understanding.
We can only show that the Blessed are free from pain,
trouble, and privation ; wherein their Blessedness posi
tively consists cannot be described^ but must be imme
diately felt.

476 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

Unblessedness comes of doubt, which continually drags
us to and fro, and of uncertainty, which spreads around
us an impenetrable night in which our feet can find no
sure path. The Religious Man is for ever secured from
the possibility of doubt and uncertainty. In every pos
sible moment he knows distinctly what he wills, and
ought to will; for the innermost root of his Life his
Will for ever flows forth from the Divinity, immediately
and unmistakeably ; its indication is infallible, and for
that indication he has an infallible perception. In every
possible moment he knows assuredly that in all Eternity
he shall know what he must will, and ought to will ;
that in all Eternity the fountain of Divine Love which
has burst forth in him shall never be exhausted, but
shall uphold him securely, and lead him onward for ever.
It is the root of his Existence ; it has now arisen upon
him clear and -bright, and his eye is fixed upon it with
unspeakable Love ; how could that fountain ever be
dried up, how could his eye ever turn away from that
Divine guide ? Whatever may come to pass around him,
nothing appears to him strange or unaccountable; he
knows assuredly, whether he understand it or not, that
it is in God s World, and that there nothing can be that
does not tend to Good.

In him there is no fear for the Future, for the absolute
fountain of all Blessedness eternally bears him on to
wards it ; no sorrow for the Past, for in so far as he
was not in God he was nothing, and this is now at an
end, and only since he has dwelt in God has he been
born into Life ; while in so far as he was in God, that
which he has done is assuredly right and good. He has
never aught to deny himself, nor aught to long for ; for
he is at all times in eternal possession of the fulness of
all that he is capable of enjoying. For him all labour
and effort have vanished ; his whole outward Ex-istence

LECTURE X. 477

flows forth, softly and gently, from his inward Being, and
issues out into reality, without difficulty or hindrance.
To use the language of one of our great Poets :

" Ever pure and mirror-bright and even,

Light as zephyr-breath of Heaven,
Life amidst the Immortals glides away.
Moons are waning, generations wasting,
Their celestial youth blooms everlasting,
Changeless midst a ruined world s decay." *

Thus much have I desired to say to you in these lec
tures, concerning the True Life and its Blessedness. It
is true that we might say much more on this subject ;
and that, in particular, it would be very interesting, now
that we have learned to know the Moral-Religious Man
in the central-point of his Being, to accompany him
thence out into common life, and even into the most
ordinary concerns and circumstances of his Existence,
there to contemplate him in all his admirable serenity
and loveliness. But without a fundamental knowledge
of that first central-point such a description might be
come, to the hearer, either empty declamation, or else a
mere air-castle, producing indeed an aesthetic pleasure,
but containing within itself no true ground of endu
rance ; and this is the reason why we rather choose to
abstain from this prolongation of our subject. As to
principles, we have already said enough perhaps more
than enough.

In order that we may add a fitting conclusion to our
whole work, I invite you here once again.

Schiller s " Das Ideal und das Leben," Merivale s Translation.

( 479 )

LECTURE XI.

CONCLUSION.

THE subject of our inquiry has been completely exhaust
ed in our last lecture, so far as it can be here ex
hausted ; and it only remains for me to point out its
general practical application, respecting, of course, those
limits which are imposed upon me by good manners, and
by that free and liberal relation which these Lectures
have established between you and me, and which this day
brings to a close.

It was my desire to establish between us the fullest
possible understanding ; as it were, to penetrate you with
myself, and in turn to be penetrated by you. I believe
that I have actually expressed the ideas I had here to
clothe in words, with a clearness that at least had not
previously been attained, and also that I have suc
ceeded in setting forth these ideas in their natural
connexion. But even after the clearest exposition of
such ideas, and after a very accurate comprehension of
them, on the part of the audience, there may yet remain
a great gulf fixed between the giver and the receiver;
and the communication may fall far short of establishing
the fullest possible understanding between them. In
this Age of ours, we have to calculate upon this defect as
the rule ; the opposite is the exception.

480 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

There are two chief causes of this want of a thorough
reception of proffered instruction in this Age.

In the first place, the hearer does not give himself up
with his whole mind, as he ought to do, to the instruc
tion presented to him; he may perhaps approach it
only with the understanding, or with the fancy. In the
first case, he regards it merely with curiosity, or with the
desire of knowing what shape and form it may assume ;
but is otherwise indifferent about its substance >
whether it may prove to be this, that, or the other
thing. In the second case, he merely amuses himself
with the succession of pictures, phenomena, pleasing
words, and modes of speech that may be passed in review
before his fancy, but is otherwise indifferent to the sub
stance. He represents it to himself as something out of
and separate from himself; and thus places it at a dis
tance from himself, instead of trying it, as he ought,
honestly by his own Love and seeing how it may answer
to that. He then attributes this same disposition to the
speaker, believing that he too has no other motive for
his speculating than that he may pass the time in an
agreeable way, letting his ingenuity and dialectic art be
admired, producing fine phrases, and such like. But
were he to put the question, even although it were only
to his own heart, whether the speaker is himself ear
nestly and vitally penetrated by what he says, and even
to suppose that he wished so to penetrate others if he
were able to do so, he would fear thereby to transgress
the limits of individual right, insult the speaker, per
haps even make him out to be a fanatic. Should this
supposition not be made, where nevertheless it both
could and should be made, then indeed no harm is done
to the speaker, since he can easily disregard this foreign
judgment which falls so far short of understanding his
true meaning ; but harm is assuredly done to the hearer
himself, for to him the imparted instruction is no more

LECTURE XI. 481

than what he takes it to be, and for him it contains no
application to Life if he himself does not give it this
application. This cold and indifferent contemplation by
the Understanding alone is the characteristic of the
scientific mode of thought ; all actual development of
Science commences with this indifference towards the
substance, and interest only in the correctness of the
form; in this indifference it remains until it has
attained its perfect form, flowing back, when thus com
pleted, into Life to which all things are at last related.
Our aim in the present lectures was not in the first in
stance Scientific, notwithstanding that, in passing, I
have frequently taken notice of the scientific wants of
my hearers, so far as they were known to me, but it
was practical. Now, therefore, at their close, we must at
once avow that we have nothing to say against its being
assumed that what we have said in these lectures has
been said by us with entire and perfect earnestness ;
that the principles we have asserted have, in our own
case, arisen from Life and flowed back upon Life ; that
we have certainly desired that these principles should
also influence the Love and Life of our hearers; and
that only in the event of such an influence having been
actually exerted should we consider our object perfectly
accomplished, and believe that our communication has
been as complete as it ought to have been.

A second obstacle to thorough communication in our
Age is the prevalent maxim that we ought to embrace
no party, and decide neither for nor against; a mode of
thought which is called Scepticism, and assumes also
many other distinguished names. We have already
spoken of this mode of thought in the course of these
lectures. It is founded upon an absolute want of Love,
even in its most common form that of self-love; and
this is the lowest grade of that vagrancy of mind which
we have already described, in which man cannot trouble

p b

482 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

himself even about his own destiny ; or it is the wholly
brutish opinion that Truth is of no value, and that no
advantage can arise from the knowledge of it. In
order to escape from this Scepticism, which does not
by any means manifest acuteness, but, on the contrary,
the lowest degree of stupidity, we must at least make
up our minds as to whether there is any Truth at all,
whether it is attainable by man, and whether, when at
tained, it possesses any value for him. Now at the con
clusion of these discourses, I must confess, that should
any man not yet have attained to certainty on these
points, even should he but find it necessary to ask time
for consideration before resolving on a decisive yes or no
with reference to the results we have announced, and
perhaps, admitting the completeness of the statement,
yet profess that he has not himself arrived at any judg
ment on the matter, I must, I say, confess that the
communication and mutual influence between such an
one and myself has proved to be of the shallowest sort ;
and that he has received only an addition to his existing
store of possible opinions, whilst I intended something
much better for him. To me it is not so certain as
the sun in heaven or as this feeling of my own body,
but infinitely more certain, that there is Truth, that it
is attainable by man, and clearly conceivable by him. I
am also firmly convinced that I, for my part, have seized
upon this Truth from an assured point of view peculiar
to myself, and with an assured degree of clearness ; for
otherwise I should certainly have kept silence, and ab
stained from teaching either by speech or writing.
Finally, I am also firmly convinced that what I have
declared, here as elsewhere, is that same eternal, un
changeable Truth, which makes everything that is
opposed to it Untruth ; for otherwise assuredly, I would
not have thus taught it, but rather have taught whatever
else I held to be Truth. For a long time it has been

LECTURE XT. 483

attempted, both in prose and in rhyme, among the great
reading and writing public, to bring upon me the sus
picion that I hold this last-mentioned singular opinion ;
and I have frequently pled guilty to the charge in print.
But printed letters do not blush, thus do my accusers
seem to think, and they continue to entertain good hope
of me that I shall, one day or other, become ashamed of
this charge, which, for that purpose, they still continue
to repeat; and I have therefore desired once for all,
by word of mouth, in the presence of a numerous and
honourable assembly, and looking them in the face, to
confess the truth of this accusation against me. In all
my attempts at communication with my fellow-men, and
consequently in these discourses also, it has ever been, in
the first place, my earnest purpose and aim, by every
means in my power, to make that which I myself have
perceived clear and intelligible to others, and, in so far
as it lay with me, to force them to such comprehension ;
being well assured that a conviction of the truth and
justice of what I had taught would then follow of itself;

and thus it has certainly been my aim, at all times,

and consequently at this time, to " disseminate my con
victions," to " make proselytes," or by whatever other
phrase they who hate this design, which I thus candidly
avow, may choose to describe it. That modesty which
is so frequently, and in so many ways, recommended to
me, which says : " See, here is my opinion, and how I
for my part regard the matter, although I am likewise
of opinion that this opinion of mine is no better than
all the other opinions that have arisen since the begin
ning of the world, or those that will arise even till its
en d such modesty, I say, I cannot assume, for rea
sons which I have already adduced, and likewise for this
reason : that I consider such modesty to be the greatest
immodesty ; and even hold it to be a frightful arrogance,
and worthy of all abhorrence, to suppose that any one

484 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

should desire to know how we personally regard the
matter; or to open our mouth to teach, so long as we
are not conscious of Knowledge but only of mere Opinion.
When it has happened that my hearers have not under
stood me, and for that reason have not been convinced,
I have then had no alternative but submission ; for
there are no outward logical means of compelling under
standing, since understanding and conviction arise only
from the inmost depths of Life and its Love ; but to
submit beforehand to this want of understanding, and
to reckon upon it, even during instruction, as upon a
necessary result, this I cannot do, and have never done,
either at any previous time or in these lectures.

These obstacles to a more intimate and fruitful com
munication upon subjects of earnest thought are con
stantly maintained and renewed, even in those who pos
sess both the desire and the power of rising superior to
them, by means of the daily influences that surround us
in this Age. When my meaning shall appear more
distinctly, you will perceive that I have hitherto neither
directly mentioned these things, nor indirectly hinted at
them ; now, however, after mature reflexion and con
sideration, I have determined, in concluding, to explore
the nature of these influences, to try them by their own
principles ; and, by means of this deeper investigation,
to arm you against them for the future, so far as I, or
any other foreign power can do so.

I shall not be withheld from doing this by the almost
universal hatred which, as I am well aware, is enter
tained against what is called polemics ; for this hatred
itself proceeds from that very influence which I under
take to combat, and is indeed one of its chief elements.
Where this hatred has not yet become something still
more worthless and contemptible, of which more here
after, it is at least a diseased aversion to all that strict
distinction and discrimination which is necessarily pro-

LECTUKE XI. 485

duced by controversy; and the unconquerable love of
that confusion and vagrancy of spirit, in which the most
opposite things are confounded, and which we have al
ready sufficiently described.

As little shall I be withheld from this investigation by
the admonition which one hears so frequently : that
we should rise superior to such things and despise them.
It is surely not to be expected that, in our Age, any
man of character who is possessed of clear knowledge
should fail to despise the supposition that he could, in
his own person, be hurt or degraded by a judgment pro
ceeding from such surroundings ; and such admonishers
perhaps do not consider what fulness of contempt they
themselves deserve, and often indeed immediately receive,
through their first reminding us of the contempt which
is due from us to such things.

I shall not be withheld from this investigation by the
common supposition that we wrangle and dispute only in
order to gratify personal feelings, and to retaliate upon
those who have injured us in some way; by which
supposition weak men, who are ignorant of any certain
truth and of its value, think they have obtained a
creditable ground for hating and despising, with seeming
justice, those polemics which otherwise would drive
them from their propriety. That any one should believe
that we could set ourselves in opposition to anything
upon mere personal grounds, proves nothing more than
that such an one, for his part, would himself do so mere
ly upon such grounds ; and that, should he at any time
enter into controversy, mere personal ill-will would cer
tainly be his motive for doing so ; and here then we
willingly accept the counsel given to us above to despise
such things : for that such an one should, without far
ther proo set us down as his fellow, is an insult which
can only be repaid with contempt, and will be so requited
by every honest man.

486 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

Neither shall I be withheld from this investigation by
its being said that there are but few who speak or think
thus ; for this assertion is simply a falsehood, with which
the culpable timidity of better men imposes upon itself.
At a moderate calculation, ninety-nine out of every
hundred among the cultivated classes in Germany think
thus ; and in the highest circles, which give the tone to
all the others, this Scepticism is most virulent ; and
therefore the party we have indicated cannot at present
decrease but must increase. And even if there are but
few speakers belonging to it, and but few who publish
its sentiments through the press, this arises only from
the speakers being always, and in every case, the fewer
in number; while the portion who do not print anything
read, and refresh themselves in the secret silence of
their minds with the published expression of their own
sentiments. That this is indeed the case with the last-
mentioned section of this party, and that we do no in
justice to the public by this accusation, becomes indis
putably manifest so soon as they get into a passion,
however carefully they may watch over their expressions
so long as they preserve their composure; and this
always ensues when any one attacks one of their speak
ers and mouthpieces. Then they all arise, man by man,
and unite against the common enemy, as if each indi
vidual thought himself attacked in his own dearest pos
sessions.

Thus although we may set aside and disregard the
individual persons composing this party who are known
to us, yet we ought not to dismiss the thing itself with
mere contempt ; since it is held by the decisive majority
of the Age ; nay, carries with it almost universal con
sent, and will long continue to do so. The careful avoid
ance of any contact with such things, under the pretext
of being superior to them, is not unlike cowardice; and
it seems as if one was afraid of soiling one s fingers in

LECTURE XI. 487

those dim corners ; while, on the contrary, the potent
sun-light must be able to disperse the darkness of these
dens, without necessarily absorbing any part of it. It
cannot indeed open the eyes of the blind inhabitants of
the dens, but it may enable the seeing to perceive what
goes on there.

In our former lectures * we have shown, adverting to
it also from time to time in these, that the mode of
thought prevalent in this Age precisely reverses the
ideas of Honour and Shame, regarding what is in truth
dishonourable as its real glory, and the truly honourable
as its shame. Thus, as must be immediately evident to
every one who has listened to us with calm attention,
the above-mentioned Scepticism, which the Age is accus
tomed to honour under the name of acuteness, is ob
vious stupidity, shallowness, and weakness of under
standing. Most especially and preeminently, however,
this total perversity of the Age is exhibited in its judg
ment of Religion. I must have altogether wasted my
words if I have not made this much at least evident to
you, that all Irreligion goes no further than the surface
of things and mere empty show ; that it therefore
presupposes a want of strength and energy of mind, and
consequently betrays weakness both of intellect and
character; that Religion, on the contrary, raising itself
above mere appearance, and penetrating to the very
nature of things, necessarily exhibits the most excellent
use of the spiritual powers, the greatest depth and acute-
ness of thought, and the highest strength of character,
which is indeed inseparable from these ; that, therefore,
according to the principles by which we pass judgment
upon Honour, the Irreligious Man must be held in light
esteem and despised ; the Religious Man, on the con
trary, highly honoured. The mode of thought prevalent

* " Characteristics of the Present Age."

488 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

in this Age completely reverses all this. With the
majority of the men of our day, nothing is more im
mediate and certain disgrace than for any one to allow
himself to be penetrated by a religious thought or sen
timent ; consequently nothing can more surely bring
honour to a man than to keep himself free from such
thoughts or sentiments. What appears to furnish some

excuse to the Age for holding such an opinion, is this :

that it can conceive of Religion only as Superstition,
and that it thinks it has a right to despise this Super
stition as something to which it is vastly superior ; and,
since this Superstition and Religion are identical, there
fore to despise all Religion. Herein its total want of
understanding, with the immeasurable ignorance arising
therefrom, plays it two mischievous tricks at once. For,
in the first place, it is not true that the Age is superior
to Superstition ; the Age, as one may plainly see at
every turn, is yet essentially filled with Superstition, for
it trembles with terror whenever the root of its Super
stition is even touched by any powerful hand. Besides,
and this is the chief thing, Superstition is itself the
absolute antipodes of Religion ; it is even Irreligion
merely in another form ; it is the melancholy form of
Irreligion, while that which the Age would willingly
assume if it could, merely as a liberation from that me
lancholy, is the gay form of Irreligion. Now, we can
easily understand how a man may enjoy a slightly more
comfortable frame of mind in the latter state than in
the former, and one cannot grudge men this little im
provement in their condition ; but how Irreligion, which,
notwithstanding this change in its outward form, still
remains essentially the same, can by such change become
reasonable and worthy of honour, no man of understand
ing will ever comprehend.

Thus the majority of the Age unconditionally scorn
and despise Religion. How then do they find it prac-

LECTURE XI. 483

ticable to give outward expression to this scorn ? Do
they assail Religion with argument? How could that
be, since they know nothing whatever about Religion ?
Or perhaps with derision ? How could that be, since
even derision necessarily presupposes some conception of
that which is derided, which they have not ? No ! they
only repeat word for word that, here or there, such or
such things have been said, which may perhaps refer to
Religion; and then without adding anything of their
own, they laugh, and of course every polite person laughs
with them for company; not by any means as if the
first or any of his followers were actually moved to
laughter by a really comic representation in his own
mind, which indeed is wholly impossible without some
conception of what is laughed at, but only in accord
ance with the general agreement ; and so, by and by, the
whole company laugh together without any single indi
vidual among them being conscious of any ground for
laughter, although each one supposes that his neighbour
perchance may have some such ground.

To continue our illustration by reference to present
circumstances, and indeed to our immediate occupation
here. The story of how I was first induced to deliver a
course of popular philosophical lectures to a mixed
audience in this city would carry us too far. This, how
ever, once got over, every one who has any acquaintance
whatever with the subject will understand, that if the
purely scientific purpose be laid aside, there is nothing
left in Philosophy, generally interesting or generally in
telligible to a mixed audience, but Religion. That the
awakening of religious sentiment would be the true and
proper purpose of these addresses, I distinctly announced
at the conclusion of my lectures of last winter,* which
are now in print, and in print for this same purpose ;

* " Characteristics of the Present Age."

ql

490 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

and I added by way of explanation, that those lectures
were but a preparation for this purpose, and that in
them we had traversed only the principal sphere of the
Religion of the Understanding, while we had left alto
gether untouched the whole sphere of the Religion of
Reason. It was to be expected of me that, if I should
ever resume these discourses, I should resume them
where I had left off. Further, it was requisite that I
should describe the subject of such popular lectures in
a popular way; and I found that the title, " The Way
towards the Blessed Life," would completely and truly
characterize these lectures. I still believe that I have
not erred in this; and you yourselves can determine,
now that you have heard the matter to an end, whether
you have heard me point out the Way towards the
Blessed Life, and whether you have heard anything else
than this. And thus it came to pass that an announce
ment to that effect was made in the public journals,
which to this moment seems to me quite fitting and
natural.

It could not, however, be unexpected on my part, and
indeed it seemed to me quite as natural as my announce
ment itself, that to a majority such as we have described,
my announcement and my whole undertaking should
seem preeminently comic, and that they should discover
in it a rich source of laughter. I should have found it
quite natural for publishers of newspapers and editors
of pamphlets to place regular reporters in my lecture-
hall, in order to guide into their own channels the foun
tain of the ridiculous which was here flowing forth in
such abundance and thus employ it for the amusement
of their readers. " The Way towards the Blessed Life !
We do not know indeed what the man may mean by
Life, or by Blessed Life, but it is a strange collocation of
words which have never before reached our ears in this
connexion ; it is easy to see that nothing will come of

LECTURE XI. 491

this but tilings which no well-bred man would choose to
mention in good society ; and, in any case, could not the
man have foreseen that we should laugh at him ? and
since, if he were a reasonable man, he would have desired
to avoid this at all hazards, his unpolished stupidity is
manifest. We shall have a laugh beforehand, in accord
ance with the general agreement; and then during this
operation some idea may perchance occur to one of us by
which to justify our laughter."

Nor is it altogether impossible that such an idea might

be discovered. For example, might it not be said :

" How blessed is the man himself to be esteemed, who
seeks to show others the Way towards the Blessed Life!"
At first glance the sally seems rather witty ; but let us
take patience to cast a second glance upon it. Suppose
the case that he who is spoken of rests calm and tranquil
in clear possession of his own principles ; have you not
done him an unmerited insult by thus speaking of him ?
"Yes, but then to speak so of himself, is not that
shameless self-praise?" To have spoken directly of
himself, that surely he could not do ; for a discreet man
must have other topics besides himself on which to speak,
if he will speak. But suppose that in the assertion that
there is a certain mode of thought by which peace and
tranquillity are spread over Life, and that in the promise
to communicate this mode of thought to others there is
necessarily contained the assumption that one does him
self possess it ; and, since nothing but peace can thereby
arise, that he has likewise, by means of it, attained this
peace and tranquillity; and also that it is impossible to
announce the first of these assumptions in a rational way
without at the same time tacitly recognising the other ;
then we must let the result be as it will. And would
it then be such gross presumption, and give room for
such inextinguishable laughter, if such an one, compelled
by the connexion of his subject, had let it be known that

492 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

he did not regard himself either as a blockhead or as a
bad and miserable man ?

And this, indeed, is precisely the peculiar impudence
and peculiar absurdity of the majority of whom we now
speak ; and in what we have just said, we have brought
to light the innermost principle of their Life. Accord
ing to the principle which, although it may perhaps be
unperceived by this majority, yet lies at the bottom of
all their judgments, all intercourse among men ought to
be founded on the tacit assumption that we are all in
the same way miserable sinners ; he who regards others
as anything better than this is a fool, and he who re
presents himself to be anything better is a presumptuous
coxcomb ; both should be laughed at. Miserable sin
ners in Art and Science : none of us indeed can either
know or do anything; we nevertheless each like to have
our say; let us humbly acknowledge and grant this
among ourselves, and so agree to talk and let others
talk ; but he who misinterprets this bargain and con
ducts himself in real earnest, as if he actually knew and
could do something, acts in opposition to the agreement,
and is a presumptuous fool. Miserable sinners in Life :
the ultimate purpose of all our emotions and endeav
ours is to improve our outward circumstances, who
does not know that ? the conventional mode of life
indeed requires that this should not exactly be said to
others in so many words, for then others would be com
pelled to admit it in words, and to avoid this, certain
conventional pretexts have been set up ; but each one
must be supposed tacitly to assume it, and he who sets
himself in opposition to this tacit assumption is not
only a presumptuous fool, but a hypocrite into the
bargain.

From the principle to which we have adverted arises
the well-known complaint which is made against the few
in the nation who are animated by better principles a

LECTURE XI. 493

complaint which we hear everywhere, and everywhere
may read ; the complaint : " What ! the man will speak
to us of the Beautiful and the Noble ! How little does
he know us ! Let him give us, in insipid jests, the true
picture of our own trivial and frivolous life ; that pleases
us, and then he is our man and has a knowledge of his
Age. We indeed see well enough that that which we do
not desire is excellent, and that that which pleases us is
bad and miserable ; but yet we desire only the latter,
for such indeed we are." From this principle also pro
ceed all the accusations of arrogance and presumption
which the authors make against each other in print, and
the men of the world against each other in words ; and
the whole amount of the recognised coinage of wit which
passes current among the public. I pledge myself, if
the problem should be proposed, to trace back the whole
store of ridicule in the world, setting aside at most a
mere fraction for other causes, either to this principle :
" He knows not yet that men are miserable sinners," or
to this other : " He thinks himself something better
than all of us besides," or to both of these principles
put together. Usually the two principles are found
united. Thus, to the mind of the majority, the ridicu
lousness of attempting to point out the " Way towards the
Blessed Life," did not consist merely in my believing
that I could point out such a way, but also in my assum
ing that I should find hearers, and especially hearers
who should return to a second lecture with the intention
of having this way pointed out to them ; and, in case I
should find such, in their believing that they should
find here anything which they could carry away with
them.

In this supposition of the common sinfulness of all
men the majority live on; this supposition they require
every one to make ; and he who on the contrary rejects
it, him they laugh at if they are in a good humour, or

494 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

get angry with if they are irritated; which latter is
usually the case when, for instance, they encounter such
searching investigations into their true nature as the
present has been. Through this very supposition they
thus become bad, profane, irreligious, and all the more so
the longer they abide in it. On the contrary, the good
and honest man, although he acknowledges his defects
and unweariedly labours to amend them, yet does not
esteem himself radically bad and essentially a sinner;
for he who recognizes himself as such in his own nature
is thereby reconciled to it, and consequently is so and
remains so. Besides what is deficient in him, the good
man also recognizes what he is possessed of, and must
recognize it for he has to make use of it. That he
does not give the honour to himself is understood ; for
he who still has a self, in him assuredly there is no
thing good. Just as little does he assume men to be bad,
and to be miserable sinners, in his actual intercourse
with them, whatever he may think theoretically of the
society around him ; but he assumes them on the con
trary to be good. With the sinfulness that is in them
he has nothing to do, and to that he does not address
himself; but he addresses himself to the good that is
assuredly in them, although it may be concealed. With
respect to whatever ought not to be in them, he does not
even assume its existence, but acts towards them as if it
were not there ; while, on the contrary, he calculates with
confidence on everything that, according to existing cir
cumstances, ought to be in them, as upon something that
must be, something that is to be assumed, and from
which they can on no account be released. For example:
should he teach, it is not by mere listless vagrancy
that he desires to be understood, but only by earnest
attention ; for such listless vagrancy ought not to be ;
and besides it is of far more importance that a man
should learn to be attentive than that he should learn

LECTURE XL 495

particular doctrines. He will not spare nor conciliate
the aversion to ascertained truth, but he will defy it ;
for this aversion ought not to exist, and he who cannot
endure truth ought not to receive it at his hands;
firmness of character is of far higher value than any
positive truth, and without the former no one is capable
of appropriating anything resembling the latter. But
will he not then seek to delight and influence others?
Certainly : but only by means of what is just and right,
and only in the way of the Divine Order ; in any other
way than this he will assuredly neither influence nor
delight them. It is a very complacent supposition, in
dulged in by that majority, that there is many an ex
cellent man, in art, in doctrine, or in life, who is most
anxious to please them; only that he does not know
how to set about it rightly because he is not sufficiently
versed in the depths of their character, and that there
fore they must tell him how they would wish to have it
done. What if he understood them far more deeply than
they themselves shall ever be able to understand them
selves, but did not care to make this knowledge apparent
in his intercourse with them only because he did not care
to gratify them, or to accommodate himself to them, until
they themselves had first become worthy of his regard ?

And thus, with the delineation of what we usually see
around us in this Age, I have also pointed out the means
by which we may rise superior to it and separate our
selves from it. Let a man only not be ashamed of being
wise, even if he alone be wise in a world of fools ! As
to their ridicule : let him but have courage not to join
in the laugh, but to keep his earnestness for a moment
and look ^the thing in the face ; he shall not thereby
lose his laugh, for in such cases true wit lies in the
background, and belongs to us ; and just in as far as the
good man outweighs the bad, in so far does his wit also
outweigh that *of the bad. As to their love and their

496 THE DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.

approbation: let him but have courage resolutely to
forego it, for in any case he can never obtain it without
becoming bad himself; and it is this alone that so
cripples and weakens even the better men of our day,
and so hinders their mutual recognition of each other
and their union among themselves, that they will not
give up the attempt to unite two things that never can
be united, their own uprightness and the applause of the
crowd, and cannot determine to know the bad only as
bad. If a man has once raised himself above this hope

and this want, then he has nothing more to fear : Life

proceeds in its accustomed course ; and though the
world may hate, it cannot really harm him ; nay, after it
also has had to abandon the hope of making us like it
self, its ill-will decreases, and it becomes more disposed
to accept and use us as we are : or, in the worst case, a
good man, if he be but resolute and consistent, is
stronger than a hundred bad men.

And now I believe that I have said everything to you
that I intended to say, and here I close these lectures;
not unconditionally desiring your approval, but, should
it be accorded to me, then so desiring it that it may do
honour both to you and to me.

OUTLINES

DOCTRINE OF KNOWLEDGE

BERLIN
1810.

TKANSLATOE S NOTE.

THE following Outline of the Doctrine of Knowledge (Die
Wissenschaftslehre in ihrem dllgemeinen Umrisse) was printed
by Fichte for the use of his students at the close of his lectures
in the Spring of 1810, preliminary to the formal opening of the
University of Berlin, of which he was the first Eector. Al
though not properly belonging to what we have called his
" Popular Works," being indeed a severely condensed summary
of the Wissenschaftslehre in its strictly scientific form, demand
ing close and sustained attention even from the student, it
may nevertheless be of service to the general reader as a
chart wherein he may be enabled to recognise the doctrines ex
pounded in the more popular writings, and especially in " The
Doctrine of Keligion," and to trace their connexion with the
general scheme of philosophy. It may therefore be regarded
as a fitting appendix to these volumes.

W. S.

(501)

I.

THE Doctrine of Knowledge, apart from all special and
definite knowing, proceeds immediately upon Knowledge
itself, in the essential unity in which it recognises Know
ledge as existing ; and it raises this question in the first
place : How this Knowledge can come into being, and
what it is in its inward and essential Nature ?

The following must be apparent : There is but One
who is absolutely by and through himself, namely,
God ; and God is not the mere dead conception to which
we have thus given utterance, but he is in himself pure
Life. He can neither change nor determine himself in
aught within himself, nor become any other Being ; for
his Being contains within it all his Being and all pos
sible Being, and neither within him nor out of him can
any new Being arise.

If, therefore, Knowledge must be, and yet be not God
himself, then, since there is nothing but God, it can
only be God out of himself, God s Being out of his
Being, his Manifestation, in which he dwells wholly as
lie is in himself, while within himself he also still re
mains wholly such as he is. But such a Manifestation
is a picture or Schema.*

* The word Schema here employed by Fichte as representing the
Manifestation of the Infinite, and which is left untranslated, may be re
garded by the general reader as the equivalent of the Logos of Plato,
the Word of the Fourth Gospel, the Divine Idea 1 of The Nature of
the Scholar (vol. i.), and the Ex-istence (Daseyn) of God of The Doc
trine of Religion (vol. ii.)

502 OUTLINES OF THE DOCTRINE

If there be such a Schema and this can only become

evident through its immediate being, seeing that it is

immediate it can only be because God is ; and, so

surely as God is, it cannot but be. It is, however, by no

means to be conceived of as a work of God, effected by

some particular act, whereby a change is wrought in

/"himself; but it is to be conceived of as an immediate

Inconsequence of his Being. It is absolutely, according to

the Form of his Being, just as he himself is absolutely;

although it is not he himself, but his Schema.

Again : Out of God there can be nothing whatever
but this ; no Being that is essentially independent, for
that he alone is; only his Schema can there be out of
him, and thus a Being out of God signifies merely his
Schema; the two expressions mean precisely the same
thing.

II

Further : Since it cannot be overlooked by the Doc
trine of Knowledge that Actual Knowledge does by no
means present itself as a Unity, such as is assumed
above, but as a Multiplicity, there is consequently a
second task imposed upon it, that of setting forth the
ground of this apparent Multiplicity. It is of course
understood that this ground is not to be derived from
any outward source, but must be shown to be contained
in the essential Nature of Knowledge itself as such ;
and that therefore this problem, although apparently
two-fold, is yet but one and the same, namely, to set
forth the essential Nature of Knowledge.

Ill

This Being out of God cannot, by any means, be a
limited, completed, and inert Being, since God himself

OF KNOWLEDGE. 503

is not such a dead Being, but, on the contrary, is Life;
but it can only be a Power, since only a Power is the
j| true formal picture or Schema of Life. And indeed it
can only be the Power of realizing that which is con
tained m itself a Schema. Since this Power is the
expression of a determinate Being the Schema of the
Divine Life it is itself determined; but only in the
way in which an absolute Power may be determined,
by laws, and indeed by determinate laws. If this or
that is to become actual, the Power must operate in this
way or that, subject to that determination.

IV.

Thus in the first place : There can be an Actual
Being out of God only through the self-realization of
this absolute Power: this Power, however, can only
produce pictures or Schemae, which by combination be
come Actual Knowledge. Thus, whatever exists out of
God, exists only by means of absolutely free Power, as
the Knowledge belonging to this Power, and in its
Knowledge ; and any other Being but this out of the
true Being which lies hidden in God is altogether im
possible.

V.

Again, as to the determination of this Power by laws :
It is, in the first place, determined through itself, as
the Power of Actual Knowledge. But it is essential to
Actual Knowledge that some particular Schema should
be realized through this Power ; and then that through
the same identical Power, in the same identical position,
this Schema should be recognised as a Schema, and as

504 OUTLINES OF THE DOCTRINE

a Schema not in itself independent, but demanding, as a
condition of its Ex-istence, a Being out of itself. The
immediate and concrete expression of this recognition,
which in Actual Knowledge never attains to conscious
ness, but which is elevated into consciousness only by
means of the Doctrine of Knowledge, is Actual Know
ledge itself in its Form ; and, in consequence of this
latter recognition, there is, of necessity, assumed an Ob
jective Reality, wholly transcending the Schema and in
dependent of Knowledge. Since in this Knowledge of
the Objective Reality, even the Schema itself is con
cealed, much more is the Power which creates it con
cealed and unseen. This is the fundamental law of the
Form of Knowledge. So surely therefore as the Power
develops itself in this particular way, it develops itself
as we have described ; not merely schematizing, but also
schematizing the Schema as a ^chema, and recognising
it in its dependent nature ; not that it must uncon
ditionally do this, but that only by means of this process
can it attain to Actual Knowledge.

In consequence of this there is much that remains
invisible in Actual Knowledge, but which, nevertheless,
really is as the manifestation of this Power. If there
fore this, and all other manifestation of this Power, were
to be imported into Knowledge, then could this only oc
cur in a Knowledge other than that first mentioned.; and
thus would the unity of Knowledge necessarily be broken
up into separate parts, by the opposition of the law of
the form of visibility to that law by which Knowledge
perceives itself as a perfect and indivisible whole.

VI.

Further : Within this its Formal Being, this Power
is also determined by an unconditional Imperative. It

OF KNOWLEDGE. 505

shall recognise itself as the Schema of the Divine Life,
which it is originally, and through which alone it has
Existence ; consequently this is its absolute vocation, in
which its efficiency as a Power is completely exhausted.
It shall recognise itself as the Schema of the Divine
Life, but it is originally nothing more than a Power,
although most assuredly it is this determinate Power of
the Schema of God : if it is to recognise itself as such
a Schema in Reality, then it must make itself so actually,
by the realization of the Power by its self-realization.

VII.

The recognition of itself as a Power to which an un
conditional Imperative is addressed, and which is able
to fulfil that Imperative^* and the actual realization of
this Power, should the latter come to pass, are distinct
from each other ; and the possibility of the latter is
dependent on the previous accomplishment of the former.

It shall recognise itself as the Divine Schema, not
by means of any Being inherent in itself, for there is
no such Being, but by means of the realization of the
Power. It must therefore previously possess the know
ledge that it is such a Power, and also by what marks
it may recognise itself in its self-realization, in order
that it may direct its attention to these characteristic
marks, and so be enabled to judge of the realization
which they denote.

Or it may be regarded thus : By means of the realiza
tion of the Power there arises a Schema, and a con
sciousness of that which is contained in the Schema, and
not more than this. ( Y.) The formal addition, which
lies beyond the immediate contents of the Schema, i.e.
that it is the Schema of God, is not immediately con-

s b

506 OUTLINES OF THE DOCTRINE

tained in it; and can only be attributed to it in con
sequence of some characteristic mark perceived in the
actual realization of the Power. The characteristic mark

is this: that the Power realize itself, with absolute

Freedom, in accordance with the recognised universal
Imperative.

VIII.

If it shall recognise itself as a Power to which an
unconditional Imperative is addressed, it must, previous
to this definite recognition, have also recognised itself
generally as a Principle ; and since it can only recognise
itself by means of its own self-development, it must
necessarily develop itself before being able to recognise
itself immediately as the Principle in this development.
The necessity for this is contained in the intention that
the Imperative shall become visible to it ; and it may
therefore be named a necessity of the Imperative a shall
of the shall namely, a necessity of its visibility : con
sequently this Imperative-^^hjs L shall lies in the primi
tive determination of the Power through its Being from
God. Since, when it does not recognise itself generally
as a Principle, it cannot, in the same position and at the
same time, recognise itself in any more definite form, it
is clear that these two modes of Knowledge are separate
and distinct from each other. We call Knowledge by
means of an immediate invisible principle Intuition.

IX.

Since neither the Power itself as such, nor the Divine
Life, is schematized in Intuition, by which indeed there

OF KNOWLEDGE. 507

is first introduced the practical possibility of such sche
matizing, it is clear that there is nothing left remain
ing in Intuition but the mere Form of Power as given
in its immediate expression. It is ( V.) a Power of
Contemplation, and that indeed without direction to
wards the one Divine Life, which from this standing-
point remains concealed; an undefined, wholly inde
terminate, and yet absolute Power, and hence an In
finite. It therefore schematizes itself as contemplating
an infinity in one glance : SPACE ; it consequently thus
also schematizes itself as contracting and limiting itself,
in the same undivided Intuition, to a point in that first
infinity, a point which in itself is likewise infinitely
divisible, a consolidated infinite Space within the other
simple infinite Space, or MATTER ; thus as an infi
nite Power of self-concentration, and consequently also
as an unlimited Material World in Space : all which,
according to the fundamental law of Knowledge which
we have already adduced ( V.) must appear to it as
actual, self-existent Being.

Further : by virtue of its merely formal power of
Being, it is an absolutely primitive Principle. In order
to schematize itself as such in Intuition, it must, ante
cedent to its actual activity, perceive a possible form of
activity which thus it must seem to it it either might
or might not be able to realize. This possible form of
activity cannot be perceived by it in the Absolute Im
perative, which to this point of view is invisible ; hence
it can only be perceived in a likewise blindly schematized
Causality, which indeed is not an immediate Causality,
but only appears to become so through the apparent
realization of the Power. But such a Causality is an
Instinct. It was necessary that the Power should feel
itself impelled to this or that form of activity, but with
out the source of the impulse being immediately per
ceived, since such an immediate recognition would deprive

508 OUTLINES OF THE DOCTRINE

it of the appearance of Freedom, which is here an in
dispensable characteristic.

This activity demanded by Instinct can only be an
activity exercised on the Material World. Hence the In
stinct to activity comes into view in immediate relation
to material existences ; these are consequently recognised
in this immediate relation, and acquire, through this re
lation, not merely extension in Space, but, even more,
their internal qualities : and by this remark we have
completed the definition of material existences, which
was before left incomplete.

Should the Power, by means of this Instinct and the
consequent appearance of self-determination, perceive it
self as in a state of real activity, then, in the percep
tion of this activity, it would be associated with the
Material World in the same undivided Form of Intuition;
and hence in this Intuition, thus uniting it with the
Material World, it would perceive itself as a material
existence in a double relation to the Material World :
partly as Sense, that it might feel the relation of that
world to its Instinct, partly as Organism, that it might
contemplate its own activity therein.

In this activity it now beholds itself as the same iden
tical Power in a state of self-determination ; but as not
exhausted in any form of its activity, and as thus re
maining a Power ad infinitum. In this perception of its
unlimited Power there arises before it an Infinity ; not
in one glance, like that first mentioned, but an Infinity
in which it may behold its own infinite activity ; an
infinite series of successive links : TIME. Since this
activity can be exercised ad infinitum only on the Ma
terial World, Time is likewise transferred to that world
in the unity of Intuition, although that world already
possesses its own peculiar expression of Infinitude in the
infinite divisibility of SPACE and of all its parts.

It is obvious that the position in which the Power

OF KNOWLEDGE. 509

gives itself up wholly to the contemplation of the Ma
terial World and is exhausted therein, is distinct from
that in which it becomes cognizant of its Instinct to
wards activity in this previously recognised World ;
that nevertheless there remains, even in the latter posi
tion, a Schema of present and necessary Existence, in
order that it may